


hiraeth.

by seasandsalt



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dancing, Dream Smp, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt No Comfort, Ice Skating, M/M, Major Character Injury, Memories, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Linear Narrative, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasandsalt/pseuds/seasandsalt
Summary: The air was punched from Dream’s lungs and his head spun and he felt like he was dying and living all at once. They’d said it before, of course they had, but this time … it felt different. Sapnap’s words were sincere and genuine, they held more truth and vulnerability than Dream had ever heard before. They were warm, hot, burning. They shook him to his core and he opened his eyes to find Sapnap already staring back at him.Birds cawed and squawked above them and water ran down their backs in rivulets. His underwear was stuck to his skin and chafed against his thighs. Waves crashed against the shore in a rhythmic, soothing motion. If Dream concentrated enough, the splash of water against sand faintly resembled the ticking of a clock. He let Sapnap consume him.or;Dream is cold. The thought of Sapnap warms him up.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 95
Kudos: 135





	1. spring.

**Author's Note:**

> hiraeth.  
> n.  
> a welsh word for longing or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. a deep irrational bond felt with a time, era, place, or person.

It was spring.

It was spring and the bees were buzzing and the flowers were blooming and the sun was high in the sky and Sapnap was warm.

They had taken the day off; Dream had abandoned his responsibilities in favour of following Sapnap like a lost puppy, giving a startled Punz a brief, “you’re in charge,” before chasing after the black-haired boy. 

It was a rare occasion for them to be able to spend an entire day alone together, so they wasted no time in depositing their weapons and armour in the community house and stepping foot onto the path and into the early morning sun. Their heavy boots hit the mismatched wooden planks and they let the gentle breeze ruffle their hair.

The ground below them changed from wood to cracked blackstone and they climbed the stairs leading to the Nether portal. Its obsidian shone in the sun, giving it a menacing and looming appearance. Quiet _vwoop_ s filled the air as they neared the portal, the purple, glass-like center spitting particles and sounds into the surrounding area. Sapnap approached the portal and rested his hand against the side, turning around to look at the buildings spreading out over the mass of land. Dream did the same.

Water glistened on the lake surrounding the community house and colourful coral could be seen just underneath its surface. To their right, Eret’s castle loomed in the distance and Punz’s tower could be seen to their left. It was home, their home. They had built it from the ground up and watched it thrive. Pride surged through Dream’s entire body as he looked from Alyssa’s house to Church Prime to Hutt’s Pizza, way in the distance. He turned his gaze to Sapnap.

His face was bright and lively, his expression matching the pride that Dream felt. And then their eyes were locked together and the smile on Sapnap’s features only grew. Sun shone on his face and he lifted a hand to shield his eyes and his smile was warm, so warm, and Dream felt like he was the only man on the planet.

“We did good, wouldn’t you say?”

Thoughts of wars and traitors and explosions loomed over their heads, unspoken but always present. 

“Yeah. I’d say so.”

Both their minds wandered. It was hard for their thoughts not to drift, what with Tommy and his little crew of soldiers threatening another revolution and Wilbur taunting them with stacks upon stacks of explosives. For the past week, their days had been full of nothing but planning and training, getting ready for a war they knew was coming.

Dream shook his head to clear his thoughts and placed his hand on Sapnap’s shoulder. They shared a look, an unspoken agreement to leave their troubles behind them, to spend the day together and not worry about anything else.

Sapnap smiled gratefully and warmed Dream to his core.

Sapnap was warm.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning away from the buildings and the people going about their daily activities.

Dream mimicked his movement and followed Sapnap. The two left the city behind them as they set foot on the stone path of the tree farm. Jungle trees rose tall above their heads and cast shadows on the ground in front of them. With each step, Dream felt the weight fall off his shoulders and the tension leave his muscles. With each step, his worries were left behind him. With each step, every corner of his mind filled with Sapnap and Sapnap alone.

Sapnap was perfect, really, and Dream had deeply missed the days when his attention wasn’t focused entirely on battle strategy with Punz and Schlatt. He quite enjoyed allowing his mind to wander and think of him.

The boy in question bounded ahead a few steps and bounced on his feet, turning around to face Dream. He walked backwards for a few paces and shot Dream a grin, big and wide and toothy, and Dream decided that if he died right then and there he would be okay with it. Sapnap uttered a “c’mon, man!” and faced forward again. He picked up his pace and broke into a jog. 

Dream’s brain was scrambled and his insides were fuzzy and the image of Sapnap smiling at him like that was burned onto the inside of his retinas. He had no idea where they were going, but he trusted Sapnap. So he quickened his steps and jogged alongside him.

They kept moving, leaving the tree farm and stepping onto the worn dirt path leading further and further away from the city. Wind hit their faces and blew through their hair, the cool breeze offsetting the growing heat of the sun above their heads. The air smelled fresh and clean, spring hitting the land with full force. It was a welcome change to the cold, brutal snow of the winter.

Grass turned to rock and gravel as they continued their jog. After a brief few minutes, they were slowing back down to a walk. Fences rose from the ground, bordering a mountain. A sign stood in front of them, ‘ _Rutabegville_ ’ scrawled on it in messy handwriting. 

“Wow,” Sapnap had stopped walking and stood in front of the sign, “I haven’t been here since…”

“... yeah,” Dream finished. It had been a while since either of them had set foot in Rutabegville, the small, fenced-off village made by Karl having only been used once to recruit members to their side after Tommy had announced his plans to attack Manberg. Although it was only a few weeks ago, it felt like months to both the men. Time had been moving too fast for either of their likings and both were grateful for the opportunity to slow it down for the day.

Sapnap sighed and took one last look at the sign, gaze travelling up the fence border to the top of the mountain. He nodded and glanced around them before offering his hand to Dream, who happily took it.

It was Dream’s idea, keeping their feelings for each other on the down-low and out of sight of people who could possibly use it against them. He was scared of losing Sapnap, that fear only growing and becoming more rational when they’d confessed to each other a month or so back.

It was hard; every time Dream saw Sapnap, all he wanted to do was get his hands all over him, to touch and feel him, kiss him senseless. But the inability to act on his desires in public made moments like this one all the more worthwhile and special. So he squeezed Sapnap’s hand and followed as he was led around the back of the mountain towards the shoreline. 

Sunlight reflected off the water and Dream used his free hand to shield his face from the glare. A post jutted out of the ground and a small rowboat was tied to it, bobbing aimlessly on the water. He was brought over to it and his hand was dropped. Sapnap stepped into the boat with ease and sat down at the front, hands reaching for the rope connecting it to land.

“What’re you doing? C’mon, idiot,” Sapnap looked at Dream and motioned with his head for Dream to sit behind him.

He clambered into the boat, trying desperately to not capsize them. His legs were bent awkwardly and his feet were almost at the front of the boat. Sapnap didn’t seem to mind, though, because he scooted backwards until his hips were in between Dream’s thighs. A warm hand squeezed his thigh and sent sparks shooting through Dream’s veins. 

“Where are we going?” he whispered, breath against Sapnap’s ear as he pressed his lips just underneath it. He looped his arms around Sapnap’s waist and relished in the feeling of finally, _finally_ , having him in his arms again. 

The boat moved with the waves as Sapnap began rowing. “It’s a surprise.”

“Oh, now I’m worried,” he joked and leaned back a bit, allowing for Sapnap to have full range of motion in his arms while rowing. 

His laughter was infectious and beautiful. Warm. 

The boat ride was mostly silent, Sapnap focused on where he was going and Dream sitting back and watching the open ocean. Deep blue water surrounded them, vines of kelp visible beneath the surface. There was no land on either side of them, just a tiny speck on the horizon in front. Dream assumed that’s where they were going. 

With the sun bathing them in light and the gentle breeze blowing through his thin shirt, he watched Sapnap at work. His black hair was relatively short - he’d told Dream he planned on growing it out - and a white headband wrapped around his head to keep the bangs out of his face. A glimmer shone from the metal of his earrings and produced two small circles of light on his skin. The muscles in his back and shoulders shifted and rolled with each row of the paddles, and Dream was intoxicated. He loved watching Sapnap. 

“I can feel you staring at me.”

His face flushed, hot and red, and he spluttered out a halfhearted and feeble excuse. The water began to look incredibly inviting and cool, and Dream debated throwing himself off the boat to stave off the growing embarrassment at being caught ogling his boyfriend.

And there it was again, Sapnap’s laugh.

It was loud and melodic and sometimes squeaky and he loved every bit of it. He wanted to bathe in his laugh, have it cover his entire body and drown in it, in its warmth. Sapnap’s laugh was warm.

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against the back of his head, breathy giggles escaping his lips and tickling the back of Sapnap’s neck. “Can’t help it when you look like that, when you look so hot.”

Sapnap was the one to splutter and flush his time around. He stopped rowing and gave Dream’s thigh a gentle slap. “Fuck off,” the words had no bite and were said through a choked laugh.

“Stop being so hot, then.” He was smug; he had regained his footing in the awkward conversation and was enjoying seeing Sapnap’s ears turn red as the blush spread across his face. 

“Shut up or I’ll flip the boat.”

“Your face seems to be getting a little warm and red, maybe that’s actually a good idea.”

Sapnap began rowing again, uttering a small “oops,” when the paddle _accidentally_ splashed water onto Dream’s side. The water was just as he’d predicted: cool and refreshing. It soaked through the fabric of his shirt and caused goosebumps to rise on his skin. He pressed another kiss to the back of his head.

The rest of the boat ride was comfortably silent. Sapnap focused on where they were going while Dream went back to watching the ocean pass by. Before he knew it, Sapnap was tapping his leg to get his attention. 

“We’re here,” he said, tucking the paddles into the inside of the boat.

He had rowed them up to the side of a dock. The wood looked old and worn, well-used and well-travelled. It bobbed and rocked along with the waves. Dream watched as Sapnap’s skilled hands looped the rope around the dock and secured the boat to it, deft fingers working off of muscle memory.

Once secured, Sapnap stood up and swung a leg over the side of the boat, foot placed squarely on the dock. He moved so both feet were on the wooden planks and then reached down, extending a hand towards Dream, who took it gratefully.

Warm fingers intertwined with his and he was pulled to his feet. The boat wobbled dangerously underneath him with the threat of capsizing if he misstepped. With careful and light movements, Dream shifted his weight to one side and lifted his leg up. A squeeze of his hand and a tug of his arm and he was pulled from the boat and onto the dock and directly into Sapnap’s waiting, welcoming, warm arms. 

He felt Sapnap’s arms curl around his shoulders and neck and hold him impossibly close. His own arms wrapped around his boyfriend’s waist and he held him there, breathing him in and enjoying the feeling of him in his arms. Far too soon for Dream’s liking, Sapnap extracted him from his grasp and took a small step back. The hands that had come to rest in his hair, on his neck, removed themselves and trailed down the lengths of his arms until all that remained were the ghostly tingles that lit up Dream’s skin.

“I missed this,” Sapnap murmured. “Missed you.”

Dream took a step and stooped down. His hand splayed across Sapnap’s cheek and guided his head up. Their lips met and fireworks shot from Dream’s stomach to his chest to his heart to his brain and up, up, up into the sky high above them. Kissing Sapnap was like a drug to Dream; he couldn’t get enough, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He was addicted to the feel of soft lips pressed to his, the taste of Sapnap against his tongue, the breathy sounds that the kisses always elicited from the younger. Kissing Sapnap was intoxicating and beautiful and warm.

They parted.

He couldn’t stop the needy whine that clawed its way out of his throat, or the way his hands grasped at the thin air of the space Sapnap occupied seconds ago, longing to touch him again. To feel the warmth of his skin seep into his.

“Relax, be patient, Dream,” he laughed and turned, walking down the dock and towards the sandy shore.

Eyes unashamedly glued to just below the small of Sapnap’s back, Dream followed in his footsteps. The dock creaked and groaned under their combined weight and Dream was half expecting it to collapse under him. But he made it to the end with the dock still in one piece.

His feet hit the sand and he examined his surroundings for the first time since they’d gotten there. They were on an island, fairly small in size but large enough that he couldn’t see the ocean on the other side. Sand ringed the edges of the island and created a quaint beach. Further up, the sand turned to lush, green grass that was littered with the purples, blues, yellows, reds, whites of wildflowers. Trees sprouted from the ground and grew tall towards the sun, towering over their heads with the leaves blowing smoothly in the spring breeze. Bees buzzed from flower to flower.

An overgrown stone path stretched out before them and Sapnap stepped onto it with the confidence of a man who had been walking it his whole life. He led them up the path and through the trees. Tucked amongst the trees stood a structure - what appeared to be a small house. The path ended just in front of the wood building and Sapnap walked straight up to the door and opened it. He crossed the threshold and motioned for Dream to do the same.

The house was small. Four windowed walls encased one room. A round table sat in the middle of the cobblestone floor, sporting a checkered cloth topped with a wooden bowl full of apples as red as the blood in his veins. There was no glass in the windows so the room was full of the scents and sounds of the saltwater ocean. In front of one wall there stood a wooden counter with cupboards above it and shelves underneath. A fireplace was carved into the wall opposite. 

It looked loved and abandoned and lived in all at once. The only notion that it wasn’t completely forgotten was the fresh fruit on the table and the way Sapnap opened the cupboards as if he were the one to place the items inside, knowing where everything belonged and which door to open to find exactly what he was looking for. Dream leaned against the wall and watched Sapnap’s back as he reached in and pulled various items from the cupboards.

Soon enough, the table was set with a loaf of fresh bread that looked as though it had been baked the day prior, a small lump of the precious and valuable cheese that was hard to come by and expensive in the city, and an unknown square of something wrapped in wax paper. Sapnap had pulled out a chair for him. 

Eyes wide and stomach grumbling with a hunger he hadn’t even noticed was there, Dream sat opposite Sapnap and leaned across the table. He captured his lips in a quick kiss and cupped his face. His thumb brushed over his cheekbone while his pinky finger trailed over his jaw and under his chin. Sapnap leaned into his hand and his lips and set Dream’s skin ablaze with fire.

He was so _warm_.

He felt Sapnap smile against his lips and pulled away. His touch lingered as he sat back and finally brought his hand back to rest flat upon the cloth-covered table.

“Thought you might be hungry,” the words fell from soft, pink lips that were pulled up into a smile. “You’ve been so busy lately, running around and going from planning to training. You look like you haven’t sat and eaten a proper meal in a long time.”

He was dumbfounded. Sapnap was right - between all his regular duties and the added stress of battles and explosions, he hadn’t sat at a dining table - let alone _eaten_ from one - in what felt like forever. He didn’t think Sapnap noticed those things.

“Did you — all this — for me? For us?”

Sapnap smiled shyly and nodded. He ripped a piece of bread off the loaf and passed it to Dream, sliding the cheese across the table. Dream accepted the food happily and picked up the knife Sapnap had set down. His hand wrapped around one of the apples in the bowl and he began slicing it into chunks. 

“How do you know about this place? And where did you get the food?”

“I used to come here all the time,” he explained, eyes watching Dream’s hands work. “I, uh, remember that time I kinda disappeared for a bit?”

A few days before the first battle against L’Manberg, Sapnap had vanished. He had left without a trace. No one knew where he went or why he left. Tension had risen in the group and Dream remembered the anxiety that pooled in his gut at the thought of not having their strongest fighter in the battle and the worry that rattled his brain at the idea of Sapnap being in danger. It was then, he remembered, that he realized the feelings he’d had for his childhood friend stretched way past what he originally thought they were. He nodded.

“Yeah, I remember that. I thought you, like, died or something.”

“I just needed to clear my head, everything was too stressful. And I somehow stumbled across this. I don’t know who built it, or where they went, but I’ve been coming here every once in a while since then.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And the food?” He raised his eyebrow at the items on the table, the apple completely cut and the knife dangling loosely between his fingers.

Sapnap flushed. “I might have made a trip here last night.”

“I… you planned this?”

He nodded and his features began to morph into embarrassment. “Wanted everything to be perfect. We never … I missed you, Dream. You look so busy and tired nowadays so I figured you’d like it.”

“I do!” To demonstrate the sincerity of his statement, he cut the piece of bread in half and spread a thin layer of cheese over each piece. He placed bits of apple on top of them and handed one to Sapnap. “I love it.”

A small, relieved sigh escaped Sapnap’s lips and their fingers brushed as he grabbed the piece of bread. The two held up their food in mock cheers and bit down at the same time. 

Soft bread and salty cheese and sweet apple exploded over Dream’s taste buds and he closed his eyes to live in the feeling forever. He’d been living off of poor excuses of food for too long, and finally eating something comforting and tasty was ethereal.

They ate in silence, merely enjoying the food and the company. Before long, the loaf of bread was reduced to crumbs and the cheese was completely gone. Two apple cores sat on the table next to the knife. Stomach full, guard lowered, legs stretched out in front of him, Dream eyed the square of wax paper on the table. He raised an eyebrow at Sapnap.

Sapnap chuckled and pushed the mystery item across the table and into Dream’s reach. “Got it from Niki.”

Curiosity piqued, his hands gingerly unwrapped the wax paper and revealed a large piece of cake. It was a soft yellow in colour, with white cream piped delicately in between the two layers and over the top. Plump strawberries rested atop the cream. It looked and smelled delicious and Dream couldn’t help himself from scooping a dollop of white cream from the top with his finger and bringing it to his mouth. Sapnap watched with wide eyes and pink cheeks as Dream sucked on his finger. He hummed at the pleasantly sweet taste.

“Dude,” Sapnap choked out, eyes glued to the bob of Dream’s throat as he swallowed. 

In an instant, Dream was struck with the realization of the lewd display he just put on and wheezed out a laugh. “And you told _me_ to be patient, Pandas?”

“I — you — Dream!” he stuttered, face now flushing a red deep enough to rival that of the strawberries that sat atop the offending cream. “What do you expect from me? I’m only one man!”

Another wheeze laugh and Dream was scooping more cream onto his thumb. He parted his lips and stuck the digit inside his mouth, maintaining eye contact the entire time he sucked and licked at his finger. The motions were exaggerated, but to Dream, playing it up was worth it to see the way Sapnap squirmed.

And squirm he did. His hands gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. His eyes narrowed. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” he said, barely suppressing a groan at the wet _pop_ of Dream removing his thumb from his mouth.

He hummed in response and was about to swipe his finger through the cream once more when Sapnap shot out of his chair and walked, a bit awkwardly, towards the door and out of the little house.

His laugh filled the empty house but fell flat with no ears to live in. Dream remained sitting for a few moments before following in Sapnap’s footsteps, cake forgotten on the table.

Afternoon sunlight shone through the gaps in the leaves above him and illuminated mismatched patches on the grass. Flowers glowed in the light and bathed in the absence of it. Dream couldn’t help but wonder what the yellow flowers would look like tied into a crown and rested upon the black hair of the man he was infatuated with.

He was about to reach down and pluck some of the flowers from the ground when he caught sight of Sapnap ahead of him. His back was to him, arms crossed over his chest as he looked out at the blue ocean. Dream made his way over with a smile plastered on his face. 

“Hey,” he said coolly, arms snaking around Sapnap’s waist and pulling his back flush against his chest. He rested his chin on Sapnap’s shoulder and pressed kisses to his neck and jaw.

Dream could tell Sapnap was doing everything he could to act annoyed; he huffed out a breath and tilted his chin towards the sky in an attempt to act stoic and unaffected by the lips on his skin.

“Shut up, Dream.” His words had no bite. 

“Oh, come on now,” he whispered, voice low and right up against Sapnap’s ear. He felt him shudder in his arms. His hands roamed over Sapnap’s chest and abdomen before slipping under his shirt and pressing against his warm and bare skin. “What’s got you all hot and bothered, Sap?”

“Dream,” he sighed, voice quiet and meek. His head fell back against Dream’s shoulder.

“What’s up, baby?” Dream rumbled, hands drifting dangerously low and toying with the waistband of Sapnap’s black pants. Sapnap’s breathy gasps and sighs were music to his ears. His eyes drifted to the view in front of them. Golden sand spread over the expansive beach, blue waves crashed against the shore, birds flew high in the sky. He had an idea.

Sapnap was putty in his arms and Dream wanted to have fun, make the moment last forever, stretch the day out as long as he possibly could. So he removed his hands off Sapnap’s body and took a step back, staring intensely at the way the man wobbled on weak knees without the support his chest had provided. This man was going to be the death of him.

“D-Dream?”

He walked around to face him and took his hand in his, running his thumb over his knuckles to ground him. The look on Sapnap’s face was a mixture of pure bliss and utter confusion and it took every ounce of willpower Dream had to not drop to his knees right there. But he remembered how fun it was to tease Sapnap relentlessly, so he gave his hand a small squeeze and tugged him along.

“Your face looks so red, Sapnap, are you alright?” he stated plainly, keeping his voice even and feigning curiosity. 

Sapnap gaped at him, eyes wide and lips parted, and, _god_ , Dream wanted nothing more than those lips against his and his tongue pushing past them. 

“Come on,” he turned around and practically pulled Sapnap from the spot his feet seemed to be rooted to. “I know what’ll cool you off.”

They walked a few paces, until both their feet were on sand and the water was a few long strides away. Dream kicked his boots off and let them fall against the grains, only slightly caring about the fact that they’ll be uncomfortably sandy when he goes to put them on again. He peeled his socks off and threw them next to his boots. His hands gripped the hem of his grey t-shirt and he pulled it up and over his head. Spring air hit his torso and he loved the feeling.

Sapnap was still staring, gawking at Dream’s body and reaching forward to touch, feel. But Dream stopped him with a hand on his chest and a shake of his head. His lips were pulled up in a smirk when he raised his eyebrows at the clothes Sapnap was still wearing.

Dream almost laughed at the way Sapnap scrambled to pull his shirt off and unlace his boots, nearly falling over in the process. After a few seconds, they both stood on the beach wearing just their pants. Their toes were buried in the sand and their bare skin was exposed to the sun.

Sapnap reached for him again and Dream stepped away. His fingers hooked under the waistband of his pants and he pulled them down tantalizingly slow, savouring the hungry look in Sapnap’s eyes when he returned to his full height in nothing but his underwear. Without having to be told, Sapnap followed his lead.

Dream smiled, genuinely, at Sapnap and took the time to drink in the sight of his body. They’d seen each other like this before, of course, but it was somehow more intimate in that moment. More special. Sapnap seemed to sense it, too, when he took a short, tentative step towards Dream and placed his hands on his chest.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured against Sapnap’s lips when he leaned down to kiss him, one hand cupping his jaw while the other reached down and linked their fingers again. He pulled away and removed the white headband from Sapnap’s hair, discarding it in the same pile the rest of their clothes ended up in. His fingers brushed black strands from Sapnap’s eyes before letting go of his face completely.

It was a short walk to the edge of the water, and a few steps later both their feet were submerged. Refreshingly cool water lapped over his feet and up his ankles, sending a welcome chill over his body. Hands still clasped together, Dream led them further into the water’s embrace.

“‘S cold,” Sapnap said, stopping in his tracks and causing Dream to turn and face him.

His eyes trailed to just below the water, gaze trained on the spot between Sapnap’s hips. “That’s kind of the point, Sap,” he laughed. “You were getting too excited too fast. Had to slow things down a little bit.”

At his words, Sapnap moved closer and gripped Dream’s hips hard enough to bruise. They were chest to chest and Dream looked down at him so they were nose to nose. “And who’s fault is that?”

He scoffed, walking backwards and guiding them both further from the shore. The water reached their ribs, now, and Dream swallowed thickly at the sight of Sanap’s body trembling, ever so slightly, from the chill. Before Sapnap could speak again and before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled them both under the water.

A wave crashed over their heads and rocked them in its gentle tide. He opened his eyes to the saltwater sting and the sight of Sapnap staring back at him, features morphed into a shocked expression. Bubbles pooled out of his mouth as he laughed and he pushed his head out of the water to breathe in fresh air.

“Dude!” Sapnap gasped, breaking the surface and sucking in a lungful of air. 

All Dream could do was laugh. It wasn’t long before Sapnap was laughing with him, the warm sounds floating through the air and bathing Dream in their light. Then a hand was on his chest and he was being pushed back. He took a gasp of air and held his breath as Sapnap pushed him under.

And, somehow, Sapnap still looked beautiful underwater. His hair floated around his face and looked silky and smooth, his cheeks were slightly puffed out and the sight caused tension to coil in the bottom of his stomach. Dream truly was enthralled by everything Sapnap said and did, and his heart beat two times as fast when he closed the gap between them and kissed him.

His lips tasted of apples and sea salt and his hands explored Dream’s back. Another wave rolled over them and Sapnap held tight to Dream, neither of them wanting to be pulled apart by its tide.

They kissed until they ran out of breath, and then kissed some more. Sapnap’s hands were on his face and he pulled Dream close, keeping their lips together as they surfaced. Their foreheads were pressed together and their mouths were open, hot breaths mingling as they breathed heavily.

“I think,” Sapnap said, arms wrapped around his shoulders, “I’m in love with you.”

The air was punched from Dream’s lungs and his head spun and he felt like he was dying and living all at once. They’d said it before, of course they had, but this time … it felt different. Sapnap’s words were sincere and genuine, they held more truth and vulnerability than Dream had ever heard before. They were warm, hot, burning. They shook him to his core and he opened his eyes to find Sapnap already staring back at him.

Birds cawed and squawked above them and water ran down their backs in rivulets. His underwear was stuck to his skin and chafed against his thighs. Waves crashed against the shore in a rhythmic, soothing motion. If Dream concentrated enough, the splash of water against sand faintly resembled the ticking of a clock. He let Sapnap consume him.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.


	2. tick.

Dream groans and opens his eyes. His vision is still cloudy with sleep, and he has half the mind to bring his fists up to his face and rub at his skin.

He’s so cold.

The walls are made of dark purple obsidian and they suck any and all possible warmth from the room. He’s freezing. 

With his vision clearing, he looks around the small area he’s confined to. To his left, a small hole in the ground is full of clear, ice-cold water. To his right sits a small chest stacked full of blank, leather-bound journals. Beside it is a table, an old fashioned feather quill and a bottle of black ink sitting atop it. A lamp made of glowstone hangs from the ceiling above the chest. Next to the table is a stone basin full of the same chilled water.

And then, hanging on the wall, is the clock. The _fucking_ clock. Gold with a blue face and black hands. Its ticking echoing off the walls and bouncing around his brain. Ringing in his ears and haunting his thoughts. Worming its way into his dreams and corrupting them into nightmares.

It is infuriating and maddening and the only source of comfort he has in his rectangular cell. It mocks him, calls out to him and laughs when he can’t respond, judges his every move. He can’t rid himself of its endless ticking and it’s slowly driving him insane.

So he closes his eyes again and leans his head back against the obsidian. The wall behind him sucks all the heat out of his body and leaves him feeling empty. Ticking fills his ears and makes his head feel stuffy and full.

Dream wishes he could relive the memory again, bathe in it and let it ruin him. He misses Sapnap - _does he?_ \- and wants nothing more than to be back on that same beach from just under a year ago.

A year? Has it really been that long?

He racks his brain for a grasp on reality, trying desperately to make sense of the passing of time. There’s no way it has been that long since the first time they’d said that they loved each other.

The memory’s still fresh, bleeding like an open wound and risking infection every time his dirty fingers peel off the scab. He doesn’t want to forget it. He can’t. 

He won’t.

He’s so cold.

Dream pushes his body up and stands to his full height. Arms reach over his head and his legs tremble with the intensity of the stretch. His joints crack and his muscles thank him for the movement. He’s spent a lot of time sitting against the wall, staring into the nothingness.

He takes a few steps forward, stopping instinctually at the withdrawn barrier. It’s made of tough stone and prevents him from escaping any time the bridge is brought to his side of the chasm. Not like anyone uses the bridge, anyways. His bare feet are planted in the center of the stones, facing forwards. He stares at the orange, fiery lava flowing down from the unseen ceiling. It throws off no heat, but Dream is scared to get too close, scared of burning up and charring his skin.

He stands there, staring, for a few seconds - _minutes? hours? weeks?_ \- before furrowing his brows and turning on the spot. A few steps and he’s situated himself in front of the chest. Dream’s hands shake as he reaches down and opens the lid. Rows of journals stare up at him and he grabs the one closest and closes the chest again. He makes his way over to the table.

There’s no chair so he’s forced to squat down uncomfortably. His thighs ache and he rocks back and forth on his heels, resting his arms flat on the desk on either side of the small book. The quill and bottle of ink rest to the side and he reaches to pull them closer.

His wrists burn. They’re red and scratched from the metal cuffs that were locked around them. He wore them during the transportation to the prison, and they had been kept on for a while after that to prevent him from ‘trying anything’, as he was told. The wounds are scabbing over and he wants to pick at them just so he has something to do and to look at. He tears his gaze away from his skin and focuses, instead, on unscrewing the cap on the ink bottle.

The journal is flipped open to the next blank page and the quill is squeezed between his fingers. He dips the tip into the ink and shakes off the excess. He writes.

_It was spring_.

The letters are shaky and uneven. Some are large and wobbly and others are smaller and precise. They create a collage of lines and scribbles on the paper that resemble the mess of his brain.

His brow creases and the writing stops momentarily as he tries to remember every small detail about that day that he re-lived mere moments ago. Dream tries to find the correct words to describe how the sun had lit up Sapnap’s face in such a way that made him appear ethereal and godly. He struggles to find the correct phrasing while recalling the feel of Sapnap’s lips against his while they were standing in the saltwater ocean.

The page slowly fills with inky letters and memories and Dream wishes that it relieved some of the tension weighing down his shoulders but it doesn’t. If anything, it makes his body feel heavier and heavier and he begins to fear that he will sink through the floor and into the lava below his obsidian box.

He keeps writing.

The room is filled with the sounds of quill against paper, the scratching and scraping reverberating against the walls and drowning out the incessant ticking of the clock. It’s a brief moment of peace.

Words flow quickly, now, and before Dream knows it, he’s filled a page and a half with black letters. They look foreign to him, illegible and confusing, and he knows that it’s his writing, that he just wrote it - _did he?_ \- but the lines jumble together into a mess in his eyes and he can’t make out the words and he doesn’t know what they say and he can’t remember what he was writing about - _was it Sapnap?_ \- and his head is hurting and the clock is ticking again and someone is screaming.

Is he screaming?

His throat feels raw and his head hurts. His eyes are squeezed shut and there’s no air left in his lungs. 

He deflates.

Dream collapses on the floor. His back hits the obsidian and, _fuck_ , it’s cold. It’s freezing, bone-chilling, icy and ruinous. The cold seeps through the thin material of his clothes and into his skin. He’s scared he won’t ever be warm again.

The clock mocks him.

His eyes open, ever so slightly, and his gaze drifts up to it. Its golden frame and blue face gleam in the low light and contrast beautifully against the deep purple of the walls. How unfair it is; the clock eternally moving forward while he’s stuck in his cell, stuck in the past, unable to run away from his memories, his problems.

The ticking is everlasting and becomes the lullaby that holds him gently and rocks him to sleep.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	3. autumn.

It was autumn.

It was autumn and there was a bite to the wind and the trees were golden and jack-o-lanterns were scattered around the city and Sapnap was warm.

Dream and Sapnap had just left Bad and Skeppy’s mansion after indulging themselves at the feast the two had invited them to. It was a monthly event, with Bad and Skeppy inviting everyone in the city to their house for games, food, and conversation. The tradition was halted, briefly, for the war between Manberg and Tommy four months ago, but had been picked up again in August.

The company was good and the food was even better. That night, they had been treated to countless platters of various meats and cheeses, bowls of cooked vegetables, and different types of bread. Sweet, fruit-filled pies and cakes were served as dessert.

As fun as the night was, they had left early, Sapnap shooting Dream a glance before making an excuse as to why they had to leave - something about an early morning trip the next day. Dream hadn’t paid much attention to his words; he was too focused on the way Sapnap’s eyes twinkled in the light of the chandelier. But whatever he had said worked, as they were now walking side by side down the wooden path away from the big, white house. 

It was early evening, the sun just beginning to dip down below the horizon, the sky still a soft shade of blue. Their shoulders were close and their hands brushed together, the brief skin contact sending tingles and heat shooting up Dream’s arm. Sapnap’s hands were always so warm.

They were walking slowly and with no destination in mind, simply enjoying the autumn air and the freedom of leaving the war behind them. The deaths of both Wilbur and Schlatt deeply affected everyone, but after mourning and making peace with the two new graves that stood outside New L’Manberg, everyone had begun to appreciate their lives more now that there was no looming threat of war. Things were peaceful. Things were good.

“What’s the plan, Sap?” Dream asked, turning his head to look away from the city before them, gaze resting on Sapnap’s black hair instead. His hand itched with the want, the _need_ , to hold Sapnap’s, and he went back and forth in his mind if he should grab it or not. After a few long seconds, he linked their fingers together and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

Sapnap went to pull away, knowing that not everyone had joined them at dinner and there could be people who could see the display of affection between the two. He mumbled a quiet, “we’re in public, Dream,” and frowned down at their hands.

Dream stopped walking. “I know,” he said. He shifted on his feet nervously and tugged at Sapnap’s arm. His free hand held his waist as he pulled the man he loved closer and closer until they were sharing air and he could see the confusion in Sapnap’s pretty green eyes. 

“What are you doing?” He sounded scared and kept nervously looking around them to see if they were being watched. While it was originally Dream’s idea to keep their relationship a secret to protect Sapnap, Sapnap himself had grown more and more protective of Dream the closer they got to the war, a habit and emotion that hadn’t broken yet.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay,” Dream cooed, unlinking their fingers to bring his hand up to cup his cheek. His thumb rubbed small circles into the skin just below his cheekbone. “The war’s over. We’re safe, you’re safe, I promise. We’ll be okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here with you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, my love.”

Sapnap smiled. It was small but beautiful nonetheless. Warm. He pushed himself up until their lips were pressed together and Dream could taste pumpkin pie on his tongue. 

Cold, autumn air blew around them and brought a chill to Dream’s skin but he paid it no mind. He was infatuated with the way Sapnap’s lips felt against his, mesmerized by the way he leaned into the hand on his cheek and wrapped his own arms around Dream’s shoulders. Kissing Sapnap, Dream decided, was something that would never get old. 

They broke apart all too soon, and Dream swooped down and recaptured his lips in another, smaller kiss. Sapnap pushed him off, laughing, and looked up at the sky. The sun had started properly setting, now, and the sky had begun to change shades. Sapnap’s features morphed into an expression Dream knew all too well. He had an idea.

Dream watched in fond amusement as Sapnap’s face lit up. He shone brighter than the sun and moon, the stars and planets; Sapnap was the brightest spot in his darkest days and he loved him, eternally, with every fibre of his being. The smile on his face was pretty and it caused his one dimple to show on his cheek. His nose was scrunched up and his cheeks looked squished and all Dream wanted to do was press his lips over every square inch of his body. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with the man in front of him.

“Stop staring,” Sapnap giggled, face flushing from the way Dream was looking at him. 

“I don’t think I could if I tried.” 

Sapnap froze at his words and looked up. Their eyes locked.

Dream’s heart skipped a beat at the eye contact. The air around him filled with sparks and butterflies flew in circles in his body, dancing around in his stomach and pounding against his ribcage. He feared that, if he opened his mouth to speak, the little creatures would fly off his tongue. Sapnap looked at him so intensely, his gaze so powerful and commanding that Dream felt his bones shaking and his insides melting. He couldn’t look away, he wouldn’t. Didn’t want to.

“You’re ridiculous,” Sapnap whispered. His voice was low and close to his ear - _when had he gotten so close?_ \- and his breaths were hot against Dream’s skin. He shuddered.

“Sapnap?”

The moment was over as quickly as it had begun. Sapnap took a step back and moved out of Dream’s personal space, expression neutral. The only indication that the moment happened at all was the slight pink tinge on his cheeks and the look hidden deep in his eyes, only visible because Dream knew what he was looking for.

“C’mon,” Sapnap smiled again, looking at the sun setting in front of him. He extended a hand and Dream happily took it.

They continued their walk away from Bad and Skeppy’s mansion, and Dream loved the way Sapnap’s steps were full of energy and excitement and how he overexaggerated the swinging of their interlocked hands, making a show of jostling his arm back and forth with each movement. It was a small, seemingly meaningless gesture, but to Dream, it meant the world. To Dream, it meant that Sapnap, the man who was scared to touch him in public a mere five minutes ago, trusted him. Trusted him to keep him safe from harm, to stay with him and to love him. It meant that the war was over and he could make sure everyone knew Sapnap was _his_.

Possessiveness flared up in his chest and he squeezed Sapnap’s hand just a bit tighter. He was his. He would always be his.

The two of them had begun to descend down the long staircase that led from Tommy’s house down to Punz’s property and further until the community house. Buildings lined their left and the wall surrounding Punz’s base loomed over them on their left. Its blackstone was menacing and threatening but the coloured stained glass of its windows captured the sun’s rays and bathed the grass in splotches of orange and yellow. The moat was full of deep blue water that would soon freeze over with the change of the season. Small waves were generated by the wind.

They walked further, still, passing by a patch of asphalt and Hutt’s Pizza, the sun glaring directly into their eyes. Their hands were still linked and Sapnap, after realizing how quickly the sun was slipping below the horizon, sped up, Dream following behind like an excitable puppy with its ears perked up and tail wagging.

“Why are you in such a rush?” he asked. “We have all the time in the world.”

Sapnap looked back and shot him a grin. “Maybe,” he said, “we usually do. But, right now, we don’t. So hurry up!”

Dream, confused, shook his head and quickened his pace so they were walking side by side again. Their feet carried them up another flight of stairs and led them under a bridge. Vines covered the walls on either side of them and a staircase leading up was carved into the side of the wall on their left. Dream figured that’s where Sapnap was taking him - that he wanted to sit on the chairs in front of the stage Karl had built, maybe sing a few songs, and just enjoy the other’s company. But they kept walking forward.

After a few long strides, Sapnap pulled them off to the right and onto the path leading up to Punz’s house. Bamboo grew tall and thin on either side of them and the grass next to their feet was long and soft. Red and yellow flowers dotted the ground here and there, and Dream knew Sapnap was in a rush - for whatever reason - but he stooped down and plucked the largest red flower he could find out of the ground. His fingers held the stem gently and he looked in front of him. Sapnap was standing there with a slightly annoyed look on his face, eyebrows raised to silently ask him why they were stopping.

Dream made no sound. He held out the flower to Sapnap like a little boy giving a rose to the person he admired, and, Dream figured, this was really no different. He felt his face heat up and a strange, nervous anxiety flow through his veins. It wasn’t uncommon for either of them to display affection through gifts, but this felt different somehow. Sapnap must have sensed it, too, because he had softened his expression and took a step towards Dream. His hand reached out and his fingers brushed against Dream’s when they closed around the stem. He held the flower like it was the most delicate thing in the world, bringing it up to his nose to breathe in the sweet scent before smiling at Dream. 

Dream watched as Sapnap stood on the tips of his toes and brushed stray strands of his hair behind his ear before nestling the bright red flower amongst the blonde hairs. 

“Pretty,” Sapnap whispered, hand lingering against Dream’s cheek.

Dream was dumbstruck, shellshocked, stunned. It was such an intimate gesture and it made his heart beat twice as fast and twice as hard. He feared it would break through his ribcage.

Soft lips pressed against his for the briefest of seconds before pulling away. Sapnap lowered himself down to his regular height and stared up at Dream, an emotion in his eyes that could only be described as wonder. 

“Pretty,” he repeated before taking Dream’s hand again and continuing to climb the wooden staircase to Punz’s house.

How could Sapnap expect him to carry on so normally after _that_?

But he did, feet feeling heavy underneath him as his mind wandered. He didn’t pay attention to where they were going, paid no mind to the rows of pumpkins they passed or the dark wooden path Sapnap led them on. He didn’t notice their descent down the wide staircase or the way the sound of their footsteps changed when the ground below them went from wood to stone. He did, however, notice the sound of splashing water as they neared the fountain in the middle of the walled-in courtyard. The fountain was made of ornate stone and stood tall and proud. It spouted water out of the top and let it fall into the pool at the bottom, just to be filtered back to the top again. 

“Where are we going?” he asked as they passed the fountain and continued along the stone path.

“Shh, it’s a secret,” Sapnap said without looking back. He was a few paces in front of Dream and stopped abruptly. He turned his head to the left in an attempt to see the sun over the walls surrounding them. The small sigh he huffed out told Dream that he couldn’t see past the wall. “Hurry.”

He was going to rebuttal, ask, _again_ , what the rush was, but Sapnap picked up his pace and tugged Dream behind him until they stood in the entrance to Punz’s tower.

It was made of grey and black stone and stretched high into the sky. Orange stained glass windows were dotted along the walls all the way to the top. Sapnap led him inside the building. 

The floor was checkered with white and black and the first floor was empty, spare for the ladder attached to the back wall that Sapnap was leading them to.

Oh.

Oh no.

Dream craned his neck up and watched as the ladder grew smaller and smaller in perspective the further up the tower he looked. He was _not_ setting foot on that. It looked rickety and shaky and like it would collapse under his weight. He rooted his feet to the ground and dropped Sapnap’s hand.

Sapnap looked back at him and he shook his head so hard and fast the flower fell from his hair and hit the ground. The red of its petals looked bright and out of place against the white tile it had landed on. It looked so delicate and small and Dream had the strange desire to crush it with the heel of his boot, see it squished against the ground and ruined completely.

He shook his head again.

Sapnap leaned down and grabbed the flower in his gentle hands and reached up to place it back in Dream’s hair, making sure to secure it behind his ear so it was more likely to stay put.

“I’m not going up there,” Dream said. 

Sapnap looked from him to the ladder. Realization donned on his face and he placed his hands on Dream’s waist. His hands were warm, so warm that the heat from them seeped through his clothes and calmed him down. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“You’ll be okay, I promise,” Sapnap soothed, fingers rubbing circles onto the clothed skin of his hips. “I’ll be right here with you.”

Dream hesitated and looked up again, chest tightening and his fight or flight response activating. He could do it.

“We don’t have to, baby, if you don’t want to.” His voice was sweet and his words were like honey and Dream debated letting himself get stuck in them.

“I can do it.” His voice was small and shaky but determined.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded. He could do it. “Yes.”

Sapnap smiled. “I love you.”

Dream let himself be brought over to the ladder and allowed Sapnap to guide his hands onto the wooden rungs. They were rough and felt sturdy enough, but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering and imagining it breaking underneath him. His hands shook.

“I’ll be right behind you. Take as long as you need. If you want to stop and turn back just tell me, okay? You’ve got this.” Sapnap pressed his lips to his temple and rubbed his hands up and down his sides reassuringly.

He took a few deep, shaky breaths and steeled himself up before placing one foot on a rung. His second foot stepped up and rested on the one above it and he exhaled.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Sapnap praised.

Dream kept going. The motions became rhythmic; he lifted a foot onto the next rung and did the same with the opposite hand. Hand, foot, hand, foot, hand, foot. He found himself counting the rungs to distract himself. His hands were sweaty and his fingers trembled.

When the numbers in his head reached around one hundred, he missed a rung on the first go. His fingers slipped off the round wood, and while he quickly corrected himself, his heart beat a thousand times a minute and his whole body trembled.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Sapnap’s voice sounded from below him, somewhere, and Dream felt a warm hand rest on his ankle.

The touch was grounding and appreciated and warm and Dream’s fingers hurt from gripping the rungs so tightly. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the ladder while he caught his breath.

“Do you want to go back down?”

“No.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He had begun to calm down.

“Okay. You’re doing so well. We’re almost there, just a bit longer, I promise.”

He exhaled and brought his foot up to the next rung. He could do it. He would do it. For Sapnap.

He started counting rungs again and kept his eyes trained on the wall behind the ladder, refusing to look either up or down, scared of what he’d see. After a few tense and long minutes, he reached the top of the ladder.

His hands clung to the top rung as he brought his foot up onto the stone floor. He pulled himself onto the ledge of the floor and pushed himself far away from the ladder. Sapnap pulled himself up moments after he did and sat down next to him.

A kiss was pressed to his cheek and Sapnap whispered praises into his skin. He clenched and unclenched his hands, cracking his knuckles and letting the tension fall from his shoulders. He breathed shakily and regathered his composure.

Sapnap stood up from his spot next to him and walked over to the window. Sunlight shone through the coloured glass and tinted his skin orange and Dream thought he looked like he was on fire. Sapnap was warm.

“D’you wanna take another minute?” he asked.

Dream breathed, deep, in, out, in, out, and shook his head. “I’m okay.”

Sapnap smiled and held out his hand. He pulled Dream to his feet and readjusted the flower that was still, miraculously, in his hair. “Let’s go. We still have time.”

He brought him over to the stone staircase in the opposite corner of the room and started walking up the steps. It spiralled up the few remaining floors of the tower and in no time they had reached the top. A heavy wooden trapdoor rested on the ceiling above them and Sapnap let go of Dream’s hand to open it.

Cool air rushed into the stairwell and sent a chill running over Dream’s whole body. He shivered briefly before following Sapnap up and out of the tower.

They stood on the roof of the highest building in the city, and Dream felt like he was _in_ the sky, a part of the clouds and faint stars. In front of them, the sun was about halfway below the horizon and Dream suddenly understood why Sapnap had wanted to bring him up here, and why he was in such a rush.

The setting sun painted the sky with different colours, various shades of blues, purples, pinks, oranges smeared across the horizon in front of them. It was beautiful. Colour stretched out before them and Dream felt like if he reached out, his fingers would smear the streaks and his hand would come back covered in the same shades. He got the urge to do that, let his skin be stained with purples and reds, pinks and oranges, and he wanted to spread those colours over Sapnap’s skin, marking him, claiming him.

Sapnap was standing beside him, their shoulders brushing. He walked to the raised ledge of the roof and sat down on it, letting his legs dangle dangerously over the edge as he leaned back on his hands.

Dream hesitantly made his way over and sat down next to him, choosing, though, to sit on the inside of the ledge and rest his arms atop it. Despite his fear of heights, he gazed down at the city below them.

Buildings looked small and unidentifiable from their height, and the path was merely a twisting and turning line made of light material. The ground was green and the trees were multicoloured, golden, yellow, and red leaves decorating the branches and littering the ground as they dried up and fell. A few spare leaves twirled and danced gracefully in the light autumn breeze.

It was beautiful; the colours of the leaves merged with the rapidly changing colours of the horizon and Dream had never seen the world from this perspective before. His eyes had widened in an attempt to take everything in, to take a mental picture and remember the view spread out before him for the rest of his life. He looked over to Sapnap.

Sapnap’s eyes were glued to the sky, the sun having completely set by now, and his lips were parted. His hair hung down just below his chin, the white of his headband practically luminescent against black hair. Dream thought the view was beautiful, sure, but to him, Sapnap was ethereal. He was perfect.

Dream shifted his body so he was sitting behind Sapnap and pressed his lips to his shoulder blade. Sapnap tore his eyes away from the sky, now that most of the colours had bled together into one shade of dark blue, and turned to look at him. His body was unbalanced and he teetered dangerously on the edge.

“Please get off the ledge,” Dream’s voice was small and his hands rested protectively on Sapnap’s sides. He held him and feared that he would fall if Sapnap moved too quickly or sporadically. 

Sapnap frowned and looked like he was going to argue.

“Please, Sapnap.”

He nodded and lowered himself off the ledge, sitting cross-legged on the roof in front of Dream. His warm hands rested on Dream’s knees and he leaned forward to kiss him. They pulled apart and Dream’s eyes were closed. He felt Sapnap peck his forehead and pull away.

“I’m proud of you, you know that, right?”

“Mhm.”

He drew patterns onto Dream’s knees with his fingers. “I love you, Dream.”

“I love you, too.” His arms reached out and he grabbed Sapnap’s waist, pulling him closer.

Sapnap settled on his lap, thighs framing his hips and hands resting on his shoulders. He smiled that smile again, the one that melted Dream on the spot; it caused his bones to turn to mush and his insides to feel like jelly. It was the smile that convinced him that there were more ways to love him, more things to love about him, that he was never done loving him and never would be. Dream thought he’d reached the limit with how much of his heart Sapnap owned, but whenever he got that smile directed at him, that limit expanded tenfold. His entire being belonged to Sapnap.

Their lips connected and it was more colourful than the display the sun and sky had put on mere minutes ago. Both their eyes closed and Dream’s brain exploded in colour. Reds and pinks and yellows and oranges sparked in his chest and mind like fireworks, crackling and tingling in his bones and skin. Kissing Sapnap was magical and warm.

The hands on his shoulders moved into his hair, fingers tangling in the blonde strands and he felt the flower fall from his head and past his face, forgotten. He paid no attention to it. His one hand remained on Sapnap’s waist while the other slid down to his thigh. Sapnap sighed into the kiss and Dream _thrived_.

It wasn’t a commanding or intense kiss, instead, it was loving and full of adoration. Sapnap pulled away first and Dream chased his lips with a smile. Sapnap giggled.

They sat and stared at each other for a moment, the sky dark but the countless stars illuminated it. The moon was brightening from its position above the horizon and soon bathed them in moonlight. Sapnap’s hair fell in his face.

Dream laughed, softly, and removed the hands that were on Sapnap’s body. He wiggled them into his pocket and pulled out two small strips of stretchy leather. After tying them into bands, he brought them up to his mouth to hold between his teeth. His hands reached forward and he combed his fingers through Sapnap’s hair. It was soft, as always, and Dream enjoyed taking chunks of it and twisting it around his finger. He scraped his blunt fingernails against his scalp and smiled at the pleased sigh that escaped the other man’s lips.

His hands gathered all the hair from one side of his head and twisted it up into a knot. He held it in place with one hand and grabbed one of the bands from between his teeth with the other. Deft fingers pulled the leather band over the knot and secured it into place. Sapnap rested his hands against Dream’s chest while he went to work on the other side of his hair.

Another twist of hair and tug of a band and Sapnap sported twin buns on the top of his head. They were messy and uneven and small bits of hair framed Sapnap’s face, but Dream thought that now, more than ever, he suited the nickname he had when they were kids.

“Pandas,” he said, admiring the way the white moonlight made his black hair look glossy and shiny, “you’re cute.”

Sapnap looked up in an attempt to see the hairdo and giggled when he failed. He leaned forward, pushing Dream backwards until his back was up against the cold stone of the roof and his legs were stretched out in front of him. Sapnap was straddling him, hands still on his chest. The moon was behind him, silhouetting him against the sky, the hair buns on his head sticking out beautifully.

Dream grinned at him and brought his hands up to rest on his thighs, going back to rubbing smooth circles into the clothed skin. They sat like that for a while, Dream alternating between looking at Sapnap and gazing at the stars behind his head. The stars twinkled and shined bright against their dark backdrop, and Dream was mesmerized. He’d always loved the stars, ever since he was a child, but he hadn’t had the time to sit back and watch them for… he couldn’t remember how long.

He lost himself in their white, flickering lights, drowning out every other sight and sound around him. He’d almost forgotten about Sapnap sitting on him until a hand cupped his face, a thumb brushed against his lips and up his cheek.

“Hi,” Sapnap said, laughing softly at Dream.

“Hi.”

Sapnap leaned closer, scooting his hips up further until he was sitting just under Dream’s ribs. The weight of him was comforting and warm.

“What’re you doing?” Dream asked when Sapnap brought his face close to his, his free hand resting on the stone beside his head to hold himself upright. They were sharing breaths and Sapnap’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. Dream lifted his head in an attempt to press their lips together. Sapnap pulled back.

“Your freckles,” he whispered, face close to his again.

Dream raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

His fingers moved from his cheekbone and landed on a random spot near his chin. They ghosted over his skin and trailed upwards before pressing down on another random spot. He did that a few more times, the touch gentle and barely there, sending goosebumps down Dream’s arms.

“They’re like constellations.”

“Oh.” 

“They’re prettier, though.”

“Hm?”

Sapnap sat up a bit, giving him a better view of Dream’s whole face. “You’re prettier, I said. Nicer to look at.”

Dream felt his face flush and he hoped that the moonlight wasn’t bright enough for Sapnap to see it.

“You’re closer, too,” Sapnap continued, leaning back into Dream’s space and pressing his lips to a freckle on his cheek. “Easier to touch. Easier to hold. All for me. All mine.”

Between each sentence, Sapnap had pressed his lips to another of Dream’s freckles, kisses trailing from cheek to chin to nose.

“All yours, huh?” Dream teased, smile playing on his lips.

Sapnap nodded. “Eternally.”

Their lips connected and Dream couldn’t understand how each kiss he shared with Sapnap was better than the last.

They parted.

Sapnap climbed off of him and offered Dream a hand. Warm fingers interlocked with his and he was tugged to his feet. They walked, hand in hand, over to one of the edges. Dream made them stay back from the ledge, grip instinctually tightening when he saw the roof drop off into nothingness.

“I got you,” Sapnap’s voice was a whisper, spoken into the wind and carried to his ears. His hand was dropped and an arm snaked itself around his waist.

Dream and Sapnap stood there and watched the world below them until they heard the faint sounds of people talking and laughing. Small, blob-like figures dotted the path, signalling the end of Bad and Skeppy’s feast. People left the mansion and made their way back to their own homes. A door slammed in the distance and then the world was quiet again.

Until it wasn’t.

Soft music drifted up to them from the open windows of Punz’s house, the melody lilting and dramatic. It was too far away for Dream to determine the name of the song, but the piano notes soothed his anxieties and calmed his worries, relaxing his brain and his body. He pressed a kiss to Sapnap’s temple and took a step back, freeing himself from his arm.

Sapnap looked at him and Dream held his hand out to him. With a raised eyebrow, Sapnap took it.

Dream pulled him close, using his free hand to place Sapnap’s on his shoulder before resting on his waist. They were chest to chest and Sapnap looked up at him with so much adoration that his heart squeezed, tight, and he felt like he might die.

The song swelled and Dream took a step back, bringing Sapnap with him. He stepped to the side and turned his body. Dream led them in a waltz, a dance he learned to do when he was a young boy and had, surprisingly, remembered after all those years. They stepped and turned and held each other kindly. A smile never left Sapnap’s face and pride surged under Dream’s skin.

Dream took a step back and held Sapnap at arm’s length, stance wide and smile wider. He pulled him in and Sapnap twirled under his arm. Laughter filled the air and mixed with the music.

Sapnap dropped his hand and brought his arms up around Dream’s neck. Dream wrapped his around Sapnap’s waist and held him close. Their foreheads pressed together.

The music had long since stopped. They didn’t care.

Time moved slow as they swayed back and forth under the stars.

Dream wanted to live in this moment forever, eternally.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dougies


	4. tock.

Dream’s eyes are closed and his bare feet carry him across the cold obsidian floor. He steps backwards, left. He spins.

He shuffles across the floor to the beat of the clock, it’s ticking keeping time for him. It guides his movements and leads him in a graceful waltz. He’s humming a tune, the melody haunting and familiar. He doesn’t remember where he knows it from.

His left hand is raised to the side, palm facing the ceiling, and his right is in front of him, fingers splayed across an invisible back. If he focuses hard enough, he’s back on the top of Punz’s tower, slow dancing with Sapnap in the moonlight. If he focuses hard enough, he can still feel the weight of Sapnap’s hand in his, the warmth of his skin against his body.

He’s so _cold_.

The obsidian cell is absent of any and all heat and the floor beneath his feet is freezing. The air is stagnant, cold. Every breath he takes sends icicles shooting into his lungs. 

Dream is forever cold and there’s no way for him to warm up. He knows he’ll never be warm again.

He misses Sapnap.

His feet bring him around the room and he waltzes from the chest in the corner all the way to the lava. He gets closer to it than he’s ever been before.

Although his eyes are closed, he can practically see the wall of orange and red liquid fire flow down from the ceiling. It smells burnt and his nose twitches. It’s loud, roaring, almost drowning out the sound of the clock.

Almost.

Ticking bounces off the walls and it’s suddenly overwhelming and he stumbles and misses a step. The sound is bubbling in his ears and being forced down his throat and he’s choking on air and he can’t breathe, oh, god, _he can’t breathe_.

He falls to his knees.

The dance is over.

His eyes are still closed and there are tears rolling down his face and his knees hurt from the impact of the floor and there are hands around his throat - _whose hands are those?_ \- and the clock won’t stop ticking and he’s losing his mind.

Dream gags against the squeezing hands and he’s desperate for air but the clock keeps ticking and he can’t breathe around the sounds. They choke him. Drown him.

He sobs.

His hands fall from his throat onto the floor in front of him and he crawls, desperately, over to the hole in the corner that’s filled with icy water. With his eyes clamped shut, he vomits into the pool. 

His throat stings as he sits there, on his hands and knees, with his body shaking, convulsing. Goosebumps rise over his flesh and a shiver runs through him. A disgusting taste coats the inside of his mouth and he swallows his saliva. Dream opens his eyes.

Whatever the reflection staring back at him is, it isn’t him.

The man’s face is gaunt and pale. Dark shadows are tattooed under his lifeless eyes and his cheeks are hollow. His lips are chapped and drawn into a thin line. Stringy and dry blonde hair falls into his eyes. Scars cover his face and faint freckles dot his skin. Dream thinks the freckles look like constellations. He thinks Sapnap would like the freckles on the face of the unknown man staring back at him.

He thinks of Sapnap and that night on the roof. He remembers what Sapnap said about his own freckles.

Constellations.

Dream makes eye contact with the reflection again and realizes he’s staring at _himself_.

He looks sickly and sallow, haunted. The tear tracks going down the reflection’s cheeks are his own and he brings a heavy hand up to his face to halfheartedly wipe them away. His lips pull up into a weak smile and he gags.

He’s vomiting again. The water splashes with the impact and the reflection is washed away and Dream is relieved. 

Before the water can settle and he’s forced to look at the monster - _himself_ \- again, he collapses and rolls to the side and onto his back. He stares up at the dark purple obsidian on the ceiling and rubs a hand over his face.

He turns his head to the side and spits onto the ground. Dream falls asleep.

He doesn’t know how long he slept, or if he even slept at all. His mind was too full. He couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or simply remembering, all he knew is that every time he closed his eyes, Sapnap was there. Sapnap was there with his black hair and white headband, his shining silver earrings and golden locket, his lazy smile and flushed cheeks. Sapnap haunts him.

A sound is ripped from his throat, a mixture of a groan and a sob, and tears are running down his cheeks again. 

Dream hastily wipes them away and worries his teeth over his trembling lip. He sits up. Bony knees are pulled to his chest and he rocks, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, for what feels like an eternity. According to the ticking of the clock, it’s been fifteen seconds.

Every corner of his brain is full of Sapnap and stars and sunsets and ladders and flowers and music and dancing. The sweet memory hurts. It burns and slices and he bleeds.

He pushes himself onto his knees and stumbles, awkwardly, over to the chest on the other side of the small room. His hands shake as he opens the chest and grabs a random, empty journal. He shoves the lid closed and makes his way over to the table.

Dream’s thighs burn from the amount of time he’s spent squatting in front of the desk and writing down the fleeting memories of him and Sapnap before they fade from his brain forever. He uses his words to grasp onto the memories like they’re his lifeline.

He supposes they are.

A stack of full journals sit in the middle of the desk and he roughly shoves them to the side to make room for his new addition. Some of them hit the floor and fall open. His eyes flit to one of the books and he cringes at the black ink, the letters messy and the page full. He tries not to read the words written on the page and he feels his stomach twist itself into a thousand knots. He worries he might vomit again.

Dream swallows the bile back down his throat and closes his fingers around the cap of the ink bottle. He unscrews it and sets it back down on the hard surface. The quill rests between his fingers like it was made for his hand and he loads the tip up with the shiny black ink.

Words flow from his hand to the paper smoothly and, for a moment, Dream forgets himself. He allows himself to forget where he is and what he did to get here, who he lost and who lost him. There’s only one thought on his mind, one worry in his brain, one person in his heart.

Sapnap.

Dream writes about the overwhelming joy he felt when Sapnap had kissed him back on the path and the constricting fear that had washed over him at the idea of climbing the ladder to the top of Punz’s tower.

He writes and writes and writes and his hand is sore but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop.

With every scratch of the quill and tick of the clock he feels the memory, he feels _Sapnap_ , slip through his fingers like sand. He can’t forget.

He remembers what Sapnap had said to him.

_All yours_ , Dream writes, _eternally_.

The words are a punch to the gut. He stares, unblinking, at them until his eyes sting and fresh tears fall down his face. 

_All yours. Eternally._

_All yours. Eternally._

_All yours. Eternally._

_All yours. Eternally._

_All yours. Eternally._

_allyoursallyoursallyoursallyoursallyoursallyoursallyoursallyoursallyours_

_eternally_.

His hands shake and he knocks over the bottle of ink. The black liquid spills over the desk and stains the wood dark. Drops of it fall onto the floor and onto the other journals that Dream had shoved away.

His mind races a mile a minute and the clock is ticking and the words are burned into his retinas and he _knows_ he’ll see them whenever he closes his eyes.

He grabs the journal from the desk and holds it in his hand. The words burn, bright and hot, against the page and taunt him, mock him. The clock is ticking.

Dream takes a small step back.

His hand flies back and he flings the book across the room as hard as he can.

He watches, satisfied when it sinks straight into the wall of lava and is consumed by the fire.

The clock is ticking.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back on that sweet, sweet hiraeth grind :)


	5. winter.

It was winter.

It was winter and the ground was covered in snow and the trees were decorated with colourful lights and friends were exchanging gifts and Sapnap was warm.

The two of them were laying in bed, Sapnap’s chest to Dream’s back, a protective arm hugging his waist and keeping him close. A heavy blanket covered them, but most of the warmth came from Sapnap himself.

Dream smiled at the rising and falling of his boyfriend’s chest. He could feel the constant motion against his body and it was a welcome reminder that everything was okay. They were okay, they were safe, they were together. The war was months ago, way back in early July, but it still kept both of them up at night and Dream feared that, one morning, he would wake up and Sapnap would be gone.

But they were okay.

The city was booming; New L’Manberg had finally finished construction, just in time for the holidays, and people seemed to be at peace. George was living on the outskirts of the city in his makeshift home, Karl and Quackity had finished the renovations on their interconnected houses, and Dream and Sapnap had rented a small, cozy house in New L’Manberg to spend the holiday in.

It was a small house, made of wooden logs and stone, and, in a way, it reminded Dream of the small shack they stumbled upon that day on the island back in the spring. There were two rooms; the door opened up into a small sitting area, a round table with chairs in the center of the floor and a fireplace against the back wall. Shelves were nailed to the wall and held up cups, plates, and other various items. The second room held a large bed that was pushed against the wall. A dresser was opposite the bed and its drawers contained extra blankets and random clothing.

Dream turned himself onto his other side so he was facing Sapnap. The arm around his waist squeezed him gently and a small, content sigh escaped Sapnap’s lips when he realized Dream wasn’t going anywhere.

He raised his hand and brushed a strand of black hair out of Sapnap’s eyes, tucking it behind his ear and smiling at the sight of his sleeping boyfriend.

Sapnap always looked so peaceful while he slept. His features were soft and gentle, warm, and the corners of his mouth were turned upwards in the faintest of smiles. There were no creases in between his eyebrows and his breathing was even and steady. He looked relaxed and Dream felt proud that Sapnap was comfortable enough to let his guard down around him.

Laughter and talk could be heard from outside their temporary home, signalling the beginning of the day. Soft rays of winter sun peeked through the cracks in the curtains and shone directly into Sapnap’s eyes. 

The man groaned and buried his face in the crook of Dream’s neck, desperate for a few more minutes - _or hours_ \- of blissful sleep. Dream chuckled and placed a hand on the back of Sapnap’s head, petting through his hair.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, lips pecking the top of his head.

“‘S too early.” His words were slightly slurred and his voice was deep and raspy with sleep. Dream’s heart fluttered in his chest.

Dream laughed again and moved his hand from Sapnap’s head. He brought it down and wrapped his fingers around Sapnap’s wrist, moving his arm to the side and freeing himself from the confines of his embrace.

“ _No_ ,” Sapnap whined, clinging needily to Dream as best he could. “Just a few more minutes? Please, baby?”

His words were syrupy sweet and crystalline and Dream debated letting them wash over him, planting seeds in his brain and blooming flowers over his thoughts. It was a tempting thought, staying in bed all day, and Dream wasn’t going to deny the way heat rushed to the pit of his stomach at the sound of Sapnap’s whines. But he’d made plans.

“Sorry, Sapnap. Up we get,” he said, peeling Sapnap’s limbs off of him and rolling out of bed. Goosebumps rose over the skin of his bare legs and he walked into the other room to stoke the dying fire back to life. A few chunks of wood were set upon the smouldering embers and the flame began to creep over the dry bark and ignite. Once the fire was decent, Dream filled a metal pot with water and set it over the flames to warm up.

He returned to their bedroom and walked over to the window. His hand reached out and pulled the curtains open. 

Outside, the ground was covered in a fresh layer of white snow, soft and fluffy and powdery, and icicles hung from the top of the window, drops of water dripping down from the pointed tips into the pile of snow below. Lights fashioned from small pieces of glowstone shoved inside bulbs of coloured glass were strung from cords of leather and draped over the edge of the roof. The sun was slowly rising higher and higher into the already blue sky. 

Sapnap groaned again and Dream laughed. He tore his gaze away from the window and turned to face his boyfriend, who was trying to bury himself in the blankets. His face was shoved into a pillow and his back was to him.

Dream made his way over to the bed and sat on the edge. He reached out and ran his fingers through Sapnap’s long hair; it reached down to his shoulders, now, and Dream combed out the tangles with his hand.

A pleased sigh came from Sapnap and he leaned into the touch, face no longer smashed into the pillow. He rolled over onto his back and looked up at Dream. His bottom lip stuck out and he pouted. “Please, Dream? Baby? Honey?”

“That’s not gonna work, Sap, and you know it.”

“My love?”

“Sapnap.”

“ _Babe_ ,” his voice was whiny and he ran his hand over Dream’s bare thigh, fingers slipping under his shirt and toying with the waistband of his underwear. “Please? Just a little longer? I miss having you in my arms.”

He sighed. Sapnap was insatiable, and who was Dream to deny him what he wanted? So he pushed his legs back under the blanket and shifted his body so he was lying back on the bed.

Sapnap immediately curled into him, arms wrapping around his waist and head tucked into his shoulder. Soft lips brushed against his skin as Sapnap peppered his neck with little kisses. Between each peck, he would whisper small affirmations, his breath warm against Dream’s body. “Thank you,” he mumbled, lips pressing down. “You’re so cozy. I missed you. I love you.”

Dream’s heart melted. He turned his head and kissed the top of Sapnap’s hair. “You’re so cute.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes and Sapnap held onto Dream so tightly it was as if he was scared he would vanish the second he let go. Dream could hear faint bubbling sounds coming from the pot on the fire in the other room.

“We actually have to get up now, baby.”

Sapnap huffed and pressed one final kiss to Dream’s cheek, letting him go and sitting up beside him.

Dream stood up and watched as Sapnap stretched his arms above his head and cracked his knuckles. He walked over to the dresser in the corner and opened one of the drawers. His fingers wrapped around soft fabric and he threw a pair of pants and shirt at Sapnap, pulling out a set of clothes for himself as well.

Once they were both dressed, they walked into the other room. Sapnap sat at the table while Dream removed the pot from the flames, being careful to not burn his hand. He set the pot down on a soft pad on the table and grabbed two worn mugs from the shelf. He set them beside the pot, along with a jar of tea leaves.

Sapnap dropped too many tea leaves into the pot of hot water and he giggled while Dream kissed the top of his head and took more items off the shelves. Soon, the table was set with various food items: leftover lamb from their dinner the night before, two rolls that Dream got when he visited Niki, and a small pouch full of the bright red berries that only grew in the winter.

It wasn’t a spectacular meal, having been made up of whatever they could find, but it felt special. Maybe it was the snow coating the ground or the frost creeping in the corners of the windows, maybe it was the sweet berries paired with the slight bitterness of the tea, or maybe it was the weight of the small pouch Dream had slipped into his pocket when Sapnap wasn’t looking. But, whatever it was, Dream felt happier than he’d been in a while.

He smiled at Sapnap, who had his eyes closed and both his hands wrapped around the hot mug of tea. His cheeks were rosy pink and he was humming a soft melody. Dream couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sapnap - he was just so … so _perfect_ , and it constantly caught him off guard. Sapnap was gentle and kind, caring and generous, loving and all _his_ , forever.

Sapnap’s eyes opened and they made eye contact. He smiled over the rim of his mug. “Caught you.”

Dream, flustered, dropped his gaze to the floor. 

“Hey.” A warm hand cupped his cheek and raised his head. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

His face flushed red and Sapnap laughed. Comforting circles were drawn into his skin by Sapnap’s thumb. Dream turned his face and kissed his palm. 

Sapnap took the final sip of his tea and set his now-empty mug down on the table. Dream watched as he stood up and made his way over to him. A leg was thrown over his lap and all of a sudden Sapnap was sitting on him, the weight comforting and welcomed.

He reached up and brushed spare strands of hair out of Sapnap’s face, using his other hand to unwrap the white headband that he kept around his wrist. Skilled fingers worked their way through silky black hair and he pulled it away from his face. He collected the hair behind his head and tied it back with the headband, letting the black hair and excess white strips hang against the back of Sapnap’s neck.

The man shook his head a couple of times to allow the hair that hadn’t been pulled back to settle against his face. Strands curled down his forehead and Dream wrapped it around his finger a few times, loving the way the curls bounced. He held Sapnap’s face with both hands and pulled their heads together. “I love you,” he whispered, breath fanning over Sapnap’s lips, the touch ghostly.

Sapnap shivered. “I love you. With everything I have, I love you.”

Their lips pressed together and Dream saw stars. Every kiss was like their first and he treated every kiss as if it were their last. He gave his everything to Sapnap every time their lips were connected; he became putty under his touch, ready and willing to be shaped and morphed by Sapnap’s skilled, warm hands, eager to become anything Sapnap wanted him to be. He would do anything, absolutely anything, for the man sat on his lap.

The kiss was loving, the gentle push-pull rhythm they had established guiding them. Sapnap’s hands mussed his hair and trailed down his neck and shoulders, ending with fingers curled around his biceps and holding him close.

Dream pulled away and rested their foreheads together. “I love you,” he said, sincerity dripping from every word. “I love you. I love you. I love you. _I love you_.”

Sapnap’s giggle was music to him, the lilting sound dancing around his head before slipping into his ears and sinking into his brain. “I know you do, starboy.”

The nickname always made Dream blush. Sapnap had started calling him that after their night on the top of Punz’s tower back in October. He’d come up with it after they had made their way down the ladder and were trying to quietly sneak out without making too much noise. Dream had tripped and fallen, causing Sapnap to fall on top of him. Sapnap had made an offhand comment, again, about how his freckles rivalled the stars above them and the nickname had stuck.

“Say it back, then,” he whispered, bumping their noses together.

“I love you.” The words were intoxicating and Dream wanted to drink them up and feel them coursing through his veins. They were the air he breathed and the water he drank. They were everything and anything all at once and Dream felt drunk on them. He hoped to never stop hearing those words for as long as he lived.

Despite the plans he’d made, Dream was content with spending the whole day sitting on the hard wooden chair with Sapnap’s weight on his thighs. He was just about to tell that to him, suggest maybe moving back to the bed, when a dull _thump_ sounded against the wall of their house.

“Sorry!” a voice called, white and red and green and black flashing past their window as three figures ran past, chucking snowballs at the others. The voices got further and further away and the two men broke into a fit of laughter.

“I guess,” Sapnap said between laughs, “that’s our cue to get out.” He stood up and took a few steps back from the chair and Dream had to stop himself from grabbing his wrists and pulling him back.

Dream watched as Sapnap stretched his arms above his head, dark blue shirt riding up ever so slightly and revealing a sliver of tanned skin. He sprung to his feet and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, one hand resting under his shirt and the other just holding him close. 

“I love you,” he said into the top of his head.

“I _know_ , Dream. You don’t have to keep saying it, you know.”

He pulled back and looked at Sapnap warily. His expression must have been more serious than he’d thought because Sapnap’s features morphed into worry and he furrowed his brows. “Are you okay?”

Dream nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’m… I’m okay.” 

“O-okay.”

Whatever feeling that had washed over him was gone now, and he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Hey,” a hand guided his face down so they were making eye contact. “Y-you know I love you too, right? That’s not gonna change, Dream. Not now, not ever.”

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and smiled. Their lips connected for a brief second. “I know.”

“Good.”

Sapnap let go of him and walked into the other room. Dream could hear him rummaging around in one of the drawers and he busied himself with clearing their mess off the table. By the time Sapnap had returned, arms carrying soft scarves and warm hats, Dream had put four objects on the table.

“Woah! Where’d you find those?” His eyes were wide and he set the bundle of outerwear down on one of the chairs.

Dream picked up one of the skates and turned it over in his hands. “Went all the way to that village up in the snowy mountains. They’re old and worn, probably not the best quality, but I’d promised you I’d teach you since we were little kids. Figured today would be a good day for that.”

Sapnap’s face lit up with a bright smile and Dream felt wrong for staring at something so special, so precious. It felt like it was supposed to be a private display that he wasn’t worthy to witness.

“Dream, that’s so far! Did you go all the way there just to get these? I thought you’d forgotten about that _ages_ ago!”

“Is- did- do you still want to learn?” His hands were shaking.

“Yeah, ‘course I do!”

“Great. We should, uh, probably head out now.”

Sapnap nodded and stuck his hands in the pile of clothing he’d discarded on the chair. He pulled out a warm cap made of soft material and walked over to Dream. A smile on his face, he raised himself onto the tips of his toes and fit the cap over Dream’s head, pulling it down over his ears and making sure it fit snugly. It was such a small and simple gesture, every movement filled to the brim with love Dream debated cupping his palms to catch whatever fell over the edge.

They both pulled thick shirts over their heads, Dream’s getting caught on the hat briefly, which caused Sapnap to laugh as he got stuck. A scarf was wrapped around his neck and Dream smiled when Sapnap’s scarf covered his chin and his bottom lip. He reached out and fixed it, tying a loose knot in it to keep it in place. Sapnap pressed a kiss to his lips, mumbling a “thank you.”

The two of them pulled their heavy boots onto their feet and Dream slung both pairs of skates over his shoulder, taking Sapnap’s hand in his free one. Cold winter air hit them as soon as they stepped through the door and the snow crunched under their feet. Sun shone in their eyes and reflected off the snow.

Buildings surrounded them, made from dark wood and stone, each one decorated with the same lights strung around their own windows. Come nighttime, they would be illuminated and cast coloured circles of light onto the white powder. High above them in the sky, red and blue balloons floated peacefully, secured in place by thin strings, swaying with the slight breeze. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo ran around them, throwing snowballs at each other and laughing when they hit the other’s face. They shouted their hello’s to Sapnap and Dream when they passed.

The snow was trampled flat along the path, and they followed its twists and turns, going down a few flights of steps until they reached the beginning of a long, wooden dock. Dream squeezed Sapnap’s hand and looked around. The few trees left in the area stood tall and proud, green needles blanketed in the soft snow. Every time the wind blew through, snow would fall from the boughs and onto the ground below.

To their right was the ocean, expansive and large. Thick ice covered the surface, spreading just past the edge of the dock. It was clean and blue and untouched, and Dream couldn’t wait to watch its surface become patterned with the scraping of their skates.

They stepped onto the dock and walked, silently, down to the end, turning right onto the extension that was made a month or so back. The ice looked thickest in the middle, so they stopped there. Dream used his boot to brush the snow off the wooden planks onto the ice below and they sat down, feet dangling a few inches in the air. If he flexed his foot and pointed his toes, they would connect with the solid surface. He did just that, testing his weight against the ice and deciding that it was sturdy enough to hold the two of them, so long as they didn’t go too far out.

He set the ice skates down beside them and turned to face Sapnap. His hands gripped Sapnap’s hips and turned him so his feet were planted flat on the dock. Dream reached down and began untying the knots in the laces of Sapnap’s boots.

“I can tie my own shoes, you know,” he laughed, attempting to swat Dream’s hand away, only to be met with a firm grasp around his wrist and a shake of Dream’s head.

“I know.”

Dream leaned forward and kissed his knee while he pulled the boot off his foot. He slipped one of the skates on and tied the laces the way he’d been taught all those years ago. Sapnap let that foot hang over the edge of the dock while Dream repeated his motions with the other boot and skate. A twin kiss was pressed to his other knee and then Sapnap had skates on both feet and was watching Dream expertly slip his own on.

He lowered himself to the ice and got his balance. It’d been a while since he’d worn skates, and the feeling of smooth ice underneath him was refreshing and invigorating. He moved so he was standing in between Sapnap’s legs and grabbed his waist. Sapnap’s hands rested on his shoulders and he lifted him off the dock and onto the ice.

Sapnap’s eyes widened as he struggled to find his balance on shaky and unsteady feet and he moved his hands down to hold Dream’s biceps. 

“You got this, just try and keep your balance for now. I’ll move us, okay?”

Sapnap nodded and his hair bounced and, if Dream wasn’t quite literally holding him up at that moment, he would have let Sapnap sweep him off his feet. 

He skated backwards, feet quickly picking up the muscle memory and falling back into the routine of the old habit. His smile was big and wide as he skated them over the ice, going from one end of the dock to the other and back again. 

Sapnap’s grip had loosened and his cheeks were red from the cold air and wind blowing against his skin. He looked so good, so pretty and perfect that Dream’s movements faltered and he had to quickly bring them to a stop so he didn’t send them both crashing to the ground. Sapnap raised an eyebrow and Dream averted his eyes, shrugging.

“U-uh,” he stuttered and felt Sapnap’s eyes on him. “Grab my hands, now, I’ll show you how to move on your own.”

Sapnap laughed and kissed the tip of his nose before sliding his hands down his arms and into his hands. Their fingers laced together and Dream told him to keep his eyes on him.

“If you look down, you’ll lose your balance. Keep your eyes up and lean slightly forward.”

“Okay.” Sapnap did just that, smiling softly at Dream and pushing his weight to the front of his body. 

“It’s kind of like walking. Just push one foot behind you and it’ll propel you forward, then do the same with the other foot.” Sapnap nodded and Dream continued, “once we get going, try bringing your heels together and then sliding your feet apart. Bring your toes together and then repeat the motion, okay?”

Sapnap nodded again and looked at Dream expectantly.

“You’re the one going forward, I’m just here so you don’t fall. Whenever you’re ready.”

He steeled himself and the concentrated look that appeared on his face made Dream want to wrap his arms around him and never let go. Sapnap, legs slightly shaky, pushed off with one foot and they began to slowly glide across the surface.

His eyes kept drifting down to the ice in between their feet and Dream gave his hands a squeeze. “Eyes up here, baby.”

Sapnap smiled sheepishly and brought his eyes back up to Dream’s. The winter sun lit up his features and made his eyes shine bright and pretty. Dream’s breath caught in his throat when Sapnap laughed, light and airy, and exclaimed a small, “I’m doing it!”

He sped up, getting eager and excited, and Dream kept glancing behind him to make sure they weren’t getting too far away from the dock. All of a sudden Sapnap stumbled and hands were on his chest as they both fell back onto the ice. The air was knocked from his lungs and he lay there, gasping, for a few seconds before oxygen began to fill his chest again. 

Sapnap was laying on top of him, his weight soothing the dull ache in his back from hitting the ground so hard. His eyes were wide and he had his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Are you okay?”

He took another few, shuddering, breaths and nodded, face breaking into a smile and a laugh bubbling up in his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, I guess I got too excited - are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

Dream nodded again and continued to laugh, bringing his hands up to brush the spare strands of hair out of Sapnap’s face and behind his ear. “‘M okay.”

He sighed, relieved. “Okay, good. I’m really sorry!”

“Sapnap, it’s okay, relax.” He sat up on his elbows and Sapnap moved off him.

“...You sure?”

He leaned forward and kissed him, bringing one hand up to rub his shoulder comfortingly. “I love you.”

Sapnap reached over and brushed bits of ice off his shoulder. Dream knelt, cold seeping into his skin through his pants, and pushed himself up so he was standing again. He braced himself and offered Sapnap a hand, pulling him to his feet as well. 

“Maybe we should, uh, pick this up another day? It’s getting kind of late, anyways.”

Dream looked up at the sky and realized that the sun had passed over them, slowly making its way down towards New L’Manberg, promising a colourful sunset as it got closer to evening. “Sure, anything you’d like. You were getting pretty good, though.”

He smiled and let Dream steer them back to the dock. The wood was cold under their bodies and Dream’s back ached but it was okay and he was happy. Sapnap still looked apologetic and worried so Dream leaned over and kissed both his cheeks, then his forehead, then his nose, and, finally, his lips. He let that kiss linger for a few seconds before pulling away and moving to untie Sapnap’s skates.

“Dream, I can-” he started.

“Stop whining and let me spoil you.”

He grumbled but didn’t say anything, eyes trained on Dream’s deft fingers undoing the laces. Dream smiled and slipped the boots back onto Sapnap’s feet. Once he’d finished, he moved to undo his own skates and soon enough the two of them were sat on the dock, shoulder-to-shoulder and thighs pressed together.

Dream turned his head and looked at Sapnap. Black hairs stuck out of his ponytail at weird angles, having been jostled from their fall, and his chin was held high. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pouch. It was small, made of fabric dyed bright red, and fit in the palm of his hand. His fingers closed around it and he took a deep breath.

“Hey, Sapnap?”

“What’s up?” He turned to face him, eyes bright and smile brighter.

“Um,” he looked down at his hand and tried to swallow the nervous butterflies that blossomed in his chest. “I, um.”

“Dream?”

He shoved the pouch into Sapnap’s hands and felt his cheeks redden.

Sapnap’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at the red bundle. “We said we weren’t getting each other anything.”

“This is different.”

“I don’t have anything for you.”

“I don’t need anything.”

“Dream-”

“Just open it, please?”

His hands shook and anxiety pooled in his gut and he watched with rapt attention as Sapnap unwrapped the fabric. The red pouch was set aside and the sun glinted brightly off of the object in Sapnap’s hands.

“Dream?”

It was a chain, thin and made from gold. Hanging from it was an oval pendant made from the same gold as the chain. An ornate design was engraved in the face of it and a small nub stuck out from the side. It was elegant and delicate and Dream thought it looked nice against Sapnap’s tanned skin.

Dream wrung his hands together and nervously cracked his knuckles while Sapnap took his time examining the gift. He turned it over and over in his hands and his expression was unreadable.

“I think rings are stupid.”

Sapnap’s head shot up. “What?”

“I, um. Thought this was better,” he gestured to the necklace. “Open it.”

“It’s- there’s something inside?”

He nodded.

Sapnap’s thumb brushed along the side of the pendant and rested on the nub. He pressed down on it and the front of the locket popped open with a small _click_.

The photo inside was old, taken back when they’d first started dating and hadn’t told anyone about it. Sapnap had found an old camera, traded an ungodly amount of emeralds for it, but insisted that it was worth it. He’d filled up the roll of film fairly quickly but neither of them had any way to develop the photos, so the camera had sat, collecting dust, in a drawer in Sapnap’s house. Until Dream slipped it into his bag and took it to the same village he’d gotten the skates from. A rumour had spread through the city that there was a villager there who was a master with potions and maps, so Dream had taken a gamble and set out for the snowy mountains. The skates had been an afterthought, something he picked up on a whim.

They were both in the photo, laying on a bed somewhere, blankets curled around them. Dream was on his back and Sapnap’s head rested on his chest, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. His hair was partially in his face and one of Dream’s hands rested between his shoulder blades. It wasn’t the highest quality photograph, but the slight pink tinge on Dream’s cheeks could be seen as he pressed his lips to the top of Sapnap’s head. Even looking back at the photo, Dream felt warm and fuzzy inside, remembering that day fondly.

Sapnap’s thumb brushed over the photo and he smiled down at the locket in his hands. He blinked rapidly and bit his lip.

“Is it okay?”

Sapnap looked at him. His eyes were glossy and wet and tears clung to his eyelashes. His bottom lip trembled and Dream’s heart sank. Fuck. He hated it.

“Dream,” Sapnap’s voice was shaky. He looked back down at the photo and swallowed. “This is… it’s… Dream.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was small and he wanted to throw himself off the end of the dock.

“Why on _earth_ are you sorry?”

He shrugged and Sapnap looked at him again. A few tears slipped out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Sapnap closed the locket and slipped the chain over his head and pulled it under his scarf. It rested against his chest, against his heart, and Dream smiled weakly.

Suddenly, warm hands were on either side of his face and his eyes were closed and Sapnap’s lips were against his. They kissed until Dream’s lungs burned for air, and, even then, he chased Sapnap’s lips when they parted.

“Yes.”

“What?”

Sapnap smiled and fingered the locket around his neck. “You said you don’t like rings. I’m saying yes.”

Snowflakes began to fall around them, thick and fluffy, and they landed in Sapnap’s hair. Dream grabbed his hips and pulled him into his lap. “Yeah?”

Their foreheads pressed together. Sapnap whispered against his lips, “yeah.”

His eyes fluttered closed and Sapnap’s mouth was so _warm_ against his and he felt hands against his chest. Dream let himself be pushed back onto the dock. The snow soaked into his clothes and soothed his aching back and he shivered. 

Sapnap pulled back and sat up. His knees were on either side of Dream’s ribs and their hips were pressed together and when Dream looked up at him he thought he had died.

The blue sky was the perfect backdrop for Sapnap and the sun created a halo around his head. His black hair was patterned with white snowflakes and his lips were kissed red. His earrings shone in the sun and the locket looked perfect resting against the dark material of his shirt.

Dream rubbed circles into his hips with his thumbs and turned them over. Sapnap’s legs were stretched out and Dream sat on his stomach, hands reaching forward and exploring Sapnap’s ribcage and chest. He ghosted his fingers over the oval locket and smiled when he felt Sapnap’s hands rest on his thighs. 

Sapnap’s hair contrasted beautifully with the white of the snow and thick flakes were stuck to his eyelashes. His cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold winter air, and from Dream himself, and his eyes were wide and innocent. He looked angelic and godly and ethereal and Dream figured he was the luckiest man in the entire world.

He leaned down and kissed him. One of his hands cupped his cheek while the other planted in the snow beside Sapnap’s head. It numbed from the cold of the snow and he felt tingles shoot up his arm and his heart was in his throat.

“I love you, starboy,” Sapnap whispered against his lips, pulling back slightly to look Dream in the eyes.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled. “My heart is yours.”

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> half way !!
> 
> i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing it. this is the longest fic i've ever written, and it's a fairly ambitious project for me to pick up. i appreciate every single one of you who reads every chapter (thank you for 1k hits!!!) and your support is so incredibly encouraging and makes me excited to continue writing.
> 
> comments are so so so appreciated - tell me your favourite part of this chapter, which chapter has been your favourite overall, your theories on the ending, anything! i love hearing what you have to say about my work.
> 
> so, dear reader, thank you for making it to the halfway point and encouraging me to keep writing. enjoy the happy chapters while you can. i'm afraid there's not much fluff for me to give anymore.


	6. tick.

His hand flies back and he flings the book across the room as hard as he can.

He watches, satisfied when it sinks straight into the wall of lava and is consumed by the fire.

The clock is ticking.

Bile makes its way back up his body, crawling up from the depths of his empty stomach and sinking its claws into the already raw skin of his throat. He turns his head and spits to the side, eyes never leaving the constant motion of flowing lava. His mouth tastes disgusting and his eyes sting and his throat burns but the book is gone.

The words still haunt him, _all yours, eternally_ playing on a loop in his head. It’s Sapnap’s voice that speaks them, faint yet so distinctly _him_ , and Dream thought that throwing the book away would have freed him from his curse.

But he’s stuck with the disembodied voice of his lover playing on repeat in his mind with no end in sight.

He tears his gaze away from the orange wall of fire and looks to the side. The desk is covered in shiny black ink and Dream watches the slow, methodical drip of the liquid as it rolls off the sides and onto the books below.

He panics.

Dream scrambles to the table and falls to his already sore knees, surely scraping the skin against the rough obsidian floor. For a brief moment, he worries about blood from the cuts seeping through the thin fabric of his pants. The thought is quickly pushed from his brain when he sees ink blot against the whites of the pages, smearing the letters and rendering some of the sentences indecipherable.

A sound escapes his throat, a mixture of a sob and a laugh, and he sounds hysterical. His hands reach for the journals and he closes them one by one, scooping them all up into his arms and setting them down on top of the closed chest. He knows some of the pages will be stuck together from the fresh ink that he didn’t let dry, but he shoves that thought to the back of his brain to deal with later.

Or never.

His eyes flit over to the desk. The once-light and bright wood is tainted, stained, ruined from the black ink. Some of it has soaked into the grain but the majority of it rests on top in a large puddle.

Dream takes a step towards it.

When he leans over the ink, he can see himself the same way he saw his reflection in the pool of water. 

He pulls his lips up into a smile and, this time, he doesn’t gag.

He laughs.

The sound is foreign to his ears and he basks in it, bathes in the wondrous feeling of air filling his lungs and bubbling out of his mouth in deranged cackles.

It drowns out the sound of the clock and the voice in his head.

His hand lands, hard and fast, on the flat tabletop and the ink splashes up around it. The liquid coats his skin and seeps in so deep he can feel it on his bones, corrupting the white with black.

Dream continues to laugh, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as he stares, unblinking, at his hand in the puddle of ink on the desk. He can no longer see his reflection.

He moves his hand, gliding it back and forth over the desk’s surface and smears the ink onto each corner, tainting the whole tabletop. Droplets of ink that had splattered up his forearm catch his eye. They dry upon his body and paint the pale skin black.

Dream stops laughing.

His eyes widen and his mouth falls open in panic and when he pulls his hand off of the desk it’s shaking harder than it ever has before. 

All five fingers are stained, black and deadly, and the entire back of his hand is covered in the same substance. Inky blank tendrils curl around his wrist and he flips his hand over. His palm is completely black.

A sound hits his ears and it resembles a hurt and dying animal and he has a sneaking suspicion that he is the source of it but he’s not too sure.

The lines on his palm are filled with ink and he shakes his hand, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, frantically to clean it off. 

It doesn’t work.

Ink covers his entire hand, spoiling the milky paleness of his skin. It’s stuck to his fingers and palm, burning like acid that’s eating away at the skin and bone, singeing the nerves and rendering his hand useless. It’s hurting his eyes and he’s become a monster.

He rubs his hand against his leg, watching in horror as his pants remain the same, untainted colour and his hand is still just as black as before. Dream wrings his hands together, blunt nails digging into the skin and scraping the flesh in attempts to clean it off. Ridges rise over his hand from the scraping but no blood is shed and the skin is still black, still black, still black.

It won’t come off, it won’t come off, it _won’t come off_.

Why won’t it come off?

He hears the sound again, louder this time, and he’s certain it came from his own mouth. It’s loud and eerie and makes the hair on his arms stand on end and he hates it. His hands fly to his ears and he scratches at them, desperate to make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, _please_ , make it stop.

Dream pulls his hand back and he rushes over to the basin and turns his head to the side. His eyes scan his face for black fingerprints or ink splatters and he cries out in relief when he can’t find any.

He’s crying again.

The tears fall from his eyes and splash against the still water. Ripples flow towards the edge of the basin and he shoves his hand into it. Water reaches to the middle of his forearm and he pushes his other hand in beside it.

His fingers and nails go back to scrubbing at the inky skin but it _still won’t come off_.

He turns his head.

Dream eyes the wall of molten lava across the room and he pulls his hand from the water. He stalks towards it.

It’s a split-second decision and his hand is on fire.

His arm disappears into the lava just above his wrist and the smell that fills his nostril is abhorrent and if he had anything left in his stomach he would vomit it out.

The pain is so intense, so unreal and unlike anything he’s ever felt before and he worries he might pass out. It burns, long and hard, and he can feel the flames lick at his skin. Dream pulls his hand out.

The skin isn’t tainted black anymore.

Instead, it’s red and angry, burnt and disgusting. The hairs on the back of his hand are completely gone and his fingernails are cracked and splitting down the middle. Blood pools on his skin - or what’s left of it - and drips onto the floor. His hand is hot and fiery and _angry_ and he stumbles backwards a few steps.

Dream screams.

Tears roll down his face, streaking his cheeks, fast and heavy and he screams until his throat is raw. The blood won’t stop pumping out of his veins and he clenches and unclenches his fist.

The movement sends pain shooting through every nerve and cell and fibre of his being and his voice cracks and breaks around the shriek he produces.

His vision blurs and his thoughts are jumbled and his hand is bleeding and on fire and he hears something in the distance - _is that a clock?_ \- and his feet carry him away from the lava.

He stumbles on shaky legs until his knees hit the edge of the stone basin and he collapses to the floor. Dream grips the rim of the stone with his unhurt hand and plunges the other one into the ice-cold water.

He screams and cries and his body is shaking with the sheer force of his violent sobs. The water is tinged pink with his blood and his skin flakes and he can see blisters beginning to form on his palm.

The pain is unbearable and his vision swims and his brain is jumbled and his hand is both cold and burning at the same time and his arm is starting to go numb and suddenly he’s back on the dock on top of Sapnap with his hand pressed firmly into the snow beside his head.

Dream lets his eyes fall closed and he slumps further onto the floor. The basin holds him up and he keeps his hand submerged, skin still tingling.

He sees Sapnap, sees his black hair against the snow, sees his flushed cheeks, sees his wide and innocent eyes, sees the happy smile on his lips, sees the golden locket resting over his heart.

His feeble facade cracks and crumbles. Dream is slowly turning to dust and being blown away by the wind.

His throat is raw and his stomach is in knots. Tears spill from his eyes continuously and his knees are bleeding. The smell from earlier is stuck in his nostrils and every shaky inhale makes him gag and choke. His ears are ringing and his lip is split from being bitten so much. He’s pretty sure his voice is spent and completely ruined. His hand fucking _hurts_ but at least the ink is gone.

Dream can’t stop himself from reliving the memory, remembering the way the sun made the snow sparkle and how the ice was patterned with the scrapes of their ice skates. He thinks back to the snowball fight they’d had on their walk back to their house and he remembers falling asleep in Sapnap’s arms that night, his head on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat and watching the locket rise and fall with every steady and even breath. 

With shaky limbs, he pushes himself into a sitting position. His pants are wet and red with his blood and they stick uncomfortably to his skin. His hand still burns, though slightly less, now, and he uses his undamaged hand to brush matted hair from his eyes. He somehow manages to pull himself to his feet.

Dream sways with every step and the edges of his vision are black and he blinks rapidly to remain conscious. He finds himself standing back in front of the chest. 

The journals that rest atop it are pushed to the side and he cradles his burnt hand to his chest while he uses the other to pluck a new, untainted book from the stack.

It’s placed down on the stained table.

Dream squats.

There’s still a bit of ink left in the bottle and he pushes it upright. The white feathers of the quill are black now.

He places his left hand on the edge of the desk to keep himself upright and brings his right away from his chest. The skin is blistered and bubbling, flesh pink and raw. Sores litter his palm and fingers and are red with blood waiting just under the surface, ready to push through the thin, damaged skin and spill over.

Dream winces when he unfurls his fingers and weakly grips the quill. Its tip is dipped in the ink and the excess falls back into the bottle with a few quick taps against the rim. His legs shake with the effort of holding his exhausted body up and his hand trembles from the pain. He’s careful to not get any ink on his skin.

His ears are ringing but the scratches and scrapes of the quill against the fresh blank page dull the noise and pull him out of his stupor. He’s painfully aware of how much his hand hurts.

Every movement sends fiery hot pain shooting up his arm but he can’t stop writing.

A blister pops and he bleeds over the page.

He flips it over and begins again.

It happens several times. His hand shakes and the ink blots and he starts again. Tears fall from his face onto the page and he starts again. Blood smears the book and he starts again.

Half the book is full of the same words written over and over and over with abrupt stops in random places.

It has to be perfect, it has to be right, it has to be clean and tidy and neat and correct.

It’s what Sapnap deserves.

Dream doesn’t know how long he sits there, writing and bleeding and writing again. But the book is full and all the events of that happy winter day are recorded and fire still eats away under his skin and his hand still shakes.

He falls back and his entire body connects with the obsidian floor.

It’s cold.

He’s cold.

His hand is burning and _he’s still cold_.

Dream rolls onto his side and pulls his hand in close to his chest, cradling it. He curls his legs up, knees pressed against his body and tucks his head down. His breath fans over his burnt skin and every exhale sends new waves of pain coursing through his veins.

His head feels stuffy and full and his heartbeat rings loud in his ears. It pounds against his skull and he tries to drown it out by focusing on something, anything.

He notices the sound of the clock. He can’t see it, but he can imagine its hands going around and around and around in circles.

For once, the sound is a welcomed distraction.

Dream’s eyes fall closed and he loses consciousness.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha L


	7. summer.

It was summer.

It was summer and the sky was full of stars and the air was stagnant and crickets could be heard in the distance and Sapnap was warm.

War loomed over their heads. With each _tick_ of a clock, the battle got closer and closer and every waking second of every day was spent preparing. Dream and Punz spent hours on end training in combat during the morning and afternoon and the entire group gathered together during the night to talk strategy.

They had a makeshift table set up in the center of the stage in Manberg, and all six of them were huddled around it, eyes trained on the map of the city. Schlatt stood at the head of the table, lips sealed shut and hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle. Dream stood to his right, taking charge of the conversation.

“So, we’re not too sure where they’ll be coming from,” he said, “but we know they should be located somewhere around here.” His finger traced a circle around Manberg then trailed south down the map.

“Are you sure?” Punz asked. He was standing on the opposite side of the table of Dream and staring directly at him.

“Not completely certain,” Sapnap cut in from his place beside Punz. “We got some insider information a while back from someone trustworthy, but they might have changed their plans since then.”

Purpled spoke, his voice directly to Dream’s right, “but it’s the best thing we’ve got, right?”

Dream nodded and looked back down at the map. “Our strongest points are here, here, and here,” he pointed at the concrete tower that stretched high into the sky, the stage they were currently standing on, and the top of the staircase that led out of Manberg.

“Basically,” Karl cut in from the far end of the table, “our best bet is to secure the high ground?”

“Precisely,” Schlatt drawled. He took a swig from the bottle and shuddered when the liquid touched his tongue. “We’re going to stay as high as we can and shoot those bastards while they run around on the ground like ants.”

Dream caught Sapnap’s eye across the table. He was one of the strongest soldiers they had, being skilled with both the sword and crossbow, but there was a lingering hint of fear in his eyes. It was barely noticeable, pushed down in favour of a stoic and brave exterior, but Dream knew Sapnap inside and out. He offered him a weak smile to try and calm him down. Sapnap smiled back.

“Well, then, boys,” Schlatt continued. “You all seem ready enough.”

“But they’re attacking tomorrow!” Karl sounded concerned.

“Surely there’s more to go over? More to plan?” Purpled wrung his hands together and shuffled closer to Dream to peer intently at the map. “Are we really just going to hope for the best?”

“There’s not much else we can do.” It was Punz, and when Dream tore his gaze away from Sapnap, he was met with the intense stare of the blonde man in front of him. “I suggest we get as much sleep as we can. Make amends and say our goodbyes to the ones who might not see us again after tomorrow.”

Dream exhaled and nodded his head. “I agree. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable and trying to come up with more tactics. We’re confident in what we have and all we can do is hope that they don’t have any tricks up their sleeves.”

“Gentlemen,” Schlatt said, rolling up the map with his free hand and tucking it under his arm. He took another long drink from the bottle and gave them a sincere smile. “It’s been fun. We’ll see who comes out on top tomorrow.” He turned and walked down the steps of the stage and disappeared into the night.

“That’s it?” Sapnap’s voice was quiet but powerful. “That’s all he’s gonna say to us?”

“What did you expect, Sapnap?” Karl spoke up, worry permanently etched into his features.

“Something better than that!”

“Sapnap,” Punz put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be okay.”

Sapnap huffed and Dream wanted to wrap his arms around him. “I _know_ that, but surely I’m not the only one who feels unprepared?”

Purpled chimed in, “yeah, but there’s no point in worrying about it, right? It’s… it’s going to happen whether we’re ready or not.”

Dream patted his shoulder and nodded at the boy beside him. “He’s right. We’re as prepared as we’ll ever be. We’ve spent countless hours training and planning for this. We’re ready. Now I’d suggest following what Punz said and say your goodbyes,” his voice got softer. “It’s obviously going to be in our best interest to keep everyone alive but… war is war.”

Karl took a shuddering breath and picked up his sword from where it lay resting against the table. “I guess you’re right. See you guys in the morning.” He took off down the stairs and followed in Schlatt’s footsteps.

Purpled moved next, slapping the table with his hand and slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. He nodded at the three remaining men and walked off.

Dream placed both hands flat on the table and leaned forward, taking some of the weight off his aching and sore feet. The summer air was hot and he could see fireflies floating gracefully through the air.

“Well?” He looked up and saw Punz staring at him with an odd expression on his face. Dream couldn’t tell what it was. The Ender Eye that hung on a gold chain around Punz’s neck blinked languidly at him.

Sapnap chimed in, “I guess this is when we go home.”

Dream sighed and the air leaving his lungs was heavy and full of pointless worries. He nodded. “Yeah.”

The three of them gathered their weapons and headed for the stairs. The wood was creaky and every step and sound set them all on edge. One more night.

They stepped onto the wooden path and walked past the small, shallow pond. A stone fountain stood in the center of it. Its generator was turned off and the night felt empty without the sounds of bubbling water rolling over its sides. On their left stood Party Island, looking decrepit and haunted with its lights turned off. None of the men spared a glance at it as they walked past.

The walk was silent - none of them found it in themselves to make conversation, knowing that they wouldn’t be able to talk about anything except the obvious. Buildings loomed on all sides as they approached the cat hotel that Sam had built, its rooms empty and abandoned. Shadows stretched across the ground from the moonlight and bathed them in darkness. There were no lights on - they couldn’t risk drawing attention to themselves with the threat of attack at any given hour. 

They turned left and walked into the tunnel Karl had built. Water reflected the pale blue light of the single lantern hanging from the ceiling. Ripples were projected on the ground in front of them and gave the illusion of being underwater. Dream stopped and reached up. He turned the lantern off and followed the other two men out of the tunnel.

Sapnap was on his left and Punz was on his right. Dream’s sword knocked uncomfortably against his leg with every step and his hands shook. He wanted, so desperately, to reach over and grab hold of Sapnap’s hand, to feel him close and let the warm skin contact lull him into a sense of security. Sapnap made him feel safe. 

But Punz was there and they kept their relationship secret for that very reason. Dream wanted to keep Sapnap safe at all costs, and if anyone else learned about the two of them, targets would be painted on both their backs. He couldn’t take that risk. Sapnap was too important to him.

But his hands trembled and they were cold despite the warm summer air and he could practically see the tension and weight Sapnap carried on his shoulders. So he reached out, gently and slowly, and brushed his pinky finger over the back of Sapnap’s knuckles. He spared a glance at Punz; the man had his eyes forward and paid them no mind.

Dream pushed a bit further. He wrapped his pinky around Sapnap’s in the same fashion as they used to when they made promises to each other when they were kids. In a way, this was the same. The touch was a promise full of love and protection; it was Dream’s way of telling Sapnap that, no matter what happened, he’d always be by his side and he’d love every single minute of it.

They passed the entrance of Eret’s museum and began walking up the steps that connected their current boardwalk to the main path. Punz’s house loomed above them.

Their heavy boots hit the light oak wood of the path and Sapnap pulled his hand away to wave goodbye to Punz, who had stopped in front of the walkway to his front door. Dream waved as well but was stopped by the commanding voice of his friend.

“Dream.”

Both Sapnap and the man in question stopped and turned to look at him. He had that same look on his face that Dream saw when they were gathered around the table. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet under the intense stare.

“A minute, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay.” He shot a glance at Sapnap.

“See you tomorrow, Sapnap. Sleep well,” Punz said, signalling for Sapnap to keep walking and leave them alone to talk privately.

Sapnap shot Dream a look, eyebrow raised.

Dream shrugged. “Go ahead, I’ll meet you there.”

The man nodded slowly and turned around, feet carrying him further down the path and towards Alyssa’s abandoned house. She’d moved out of the city a few months back and Dream and Sapnap had been staying there together to avoid the prying eyes of their friends.

He turned to face Punz, who was leaning back against the rock pile holding his walkway. “What’s up?”

“I know.”

“You know? What do you know?”

“About you,” his voice was quiet but Dream felt every word like it was a punch to his gut, “and Sapnap.”

His heart was in his throat and his stomach was in knots and his palms were sweaty. “What are you talking about?” Dream tried to keep his voice even.

Punz rolled his eyes. “He’s happy when he’s with you.”

“Punz-” Dream started.

“Dream, he’s like a brother to me. You really think I wouldn’t notice?”

He exhaled shakily and quickly weighed his options. He could lie to Punz, tell him that he’s completely wrong and throw him off their scent. Or he could tell the truth. Punz was one of their oldest friends, and, he was right. He and Sapnap had a brotherly relationship, have had since they’d first met, and deep down Dream knew he could trust him.

“How long?” Punz’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Few months. Maybe three, or four.”

The man in front of him nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is he happy?”

Dream nodded.

“Are you happy?”

He couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face. He thought about Sapnap, about his black hair and tanned skin, his shining earrings and calloused hands. He thought about that day a few weeks back when they’d first said they loved each other and he thought about how he took every chance he had to say it again and again until his tongue felt heavy and Sapnap’s ears bled. “Yeah. I really am.”

“Good.”

They stood in silence for a few beats. The moon shone bright above them and the stars twinkled and danced. Fireflies hovered around their heads and the sounds of crickets were louder now. Dream fiddled with the belt of his scabbard and toyed with the handle of his sword. Punz’s netherite armour practically glowed in the pale moonlight.

“Do you really think we have a shot at winning?” Dream was quiet, scared. He allowed himself to lower his guard and confess his secrets to Punz. “I know I’ve been giving them all hope and encouragement, but… Punz, what if we don’t win? What if Sapnap…” he trailed off. Punz knew what he was implying.

“He won’t. He’s better than both of us combined. He’ll make it, don’t worry.”

Dream knew he was right. Sapnap was strong, smart, fast. A worthy opponent to anyone willing to risk their life to face him in combat. But worry ate away at him and guilt’s fangs sunk into the fleshy part of his brain and consumed his every thought. His mind was corrupted until his only thoughts were to protect Sapnap.

“But what if I can’t protect him?” His voice broke.

Punz took a step forward and placed a reassuring hand on Dream’s shoulder. The contact grounded him, calmed him, and he took a few deep breaths to steady his pounding heart and trembling limbs.

“Dream, you’re worrying for no reason. He’ll be okay.”

He wondered if Punz was trying to convince the both of them.

Silence blanketed them, warm and heavy, and it was suffocating. Dream felt his lungs constrict and his throat close. The sound of his blood rushing through his veins filled his ears and he could feel a hand around his heart, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing tight and never letting go. His bottom lip trembled and he blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over his eyes.

Punz squeezed his shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. He let Dream cry and rubbed his back comfortingly, albeit awkwardly. It was a release Dream didn’t know he needed, finally letting the weight be lifted off his chest and his deepest worries and strongest anxieties come to light. He pulled back with a sniffle and wiped harshly at his cheeks.

“Sorry.”

“All good, man. I’m worried, too.”

Dream smiled gratefully at Punz and nodded his head. He took a step back and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I should, uh, probably go. Get some sleep, y’know. For tomorrow.”

Punz nodded and raised his eyebrows. “If you have his back, he’ll have yours. Take care of him, Dream. He may not be my actual brother, but I’ll kill you if you do anything to hurt him.”

They both laughed and Dream felt lighter. He owed Punz a lot, not just for the temporary reassurance, but for being such a good friend over the years. He hoped he made it out of the war unscathed.

“It’s been an honour knowing you, Punz. I look forward to fighting by your side tomorrow.” He held out his hand and Punz took it, grip firm.

“You too, Dream.”

They shook hands and Punz turned around and walked up the stairs to his house. Dream heard the door close and he sighed. He blinked slowly and started walking towards where he knew Sapnap was waiting for him.

He looked up at Purpled’s tower. Faint lilac and green lights pooled from the coloured glass. His gaze shifted to his left and he saw the burnt remnants of Tubbo’s house. Dream’s heart felt heavy; he didn’t mean for all this to happen, to drag all these people, these _kids_ , into war. If he could do it again, would he do it differently?

He didn’t know.

Church Prime’s quartz walls shined and reflected the light of the moon and stars and it appeared luminescent. Dream stood still under the archway and debated going into the building for old time’s sake. He remembered all the laughs they’d shared in the space between those four walls and he remembered straddling Sapnap on one of the pews when it was the only space they could go without being seen. He kept walking.

The community house stood out against the night sky directly in front of him and he made his way over to it. He passed by the Hall of Fame on his right and the flat, half-built wooden stage on his left that a group had started but never quite finished. A lake spread out before him and the dock rocked gently when he set his foot down on it.

Coral glowed under the surface and fish swam around aimlessly. The dock widened and he opened the door to the community house. Crafting tables made up the floor and a short laugh bubbled up from his chest when he remembered the day the floor had changed, spawning from a joke his friends had made that he never quite understood until that night Sapnap sat him down on the edge of one of his crafting benches and kneeled before him, hands on his knees.

A staircase stretched from the middle of the floor all the way to the ceiling and Dream rested his hand against the steps. He stood for a few seconds in the center of the community house, the first building they’d built when they arrived in the city, the building he’d built with all his friends. He hoped he’d live long enough to see it again tomorrow evening.

The door squealed on its hinges when he opened it and he set foot on another dock. Wheat rustled gently to his left and the smell of soil filled his nostrils as he passed by the floating farm. His feet hit stone and he climbed the staircase leading up to the Nether portal.

Purple glow bled into the dark blue and black of the night sky and particles flew into the air with _pops_ and _vwoops_. He turned left at the portal.

Alyssa’s house was dark, spare for one window illuminated with the soft light of a lantern. It was a temporary living arrangement, yet the sight felt welcoming in a way that could only scream _home_. Dream figured it only felt that way because he knew Sapnap was waiting for him on the other side of the door.

There was a welcome mat, rough and well-used and dirty, on the porch outside the front door and Dream unconsciously wiped his boots off. His hand closed around the doorknob and he pushed it open and stepped over the threshold.

Warm hands were on him the second he walked into the house and his back was pressed against the door before it was even completely closed.

The door slammed shut with the force of the push and Dream let out a quiet _oof_ , the sound swallowed by the lips that were on his in an instant. Sapnap was warm and had his hands all over Dream’s body, cupping his jaw and gripping his bicep and curling into his hair and running up and down his sides and holding his hip. Dream rested one hand on Sapnap’s waist and brought the other one up to the back of his neck, fingers tangling around the hairs there.

A thigh was slotted between his legs and Sapnap broke the kiss, dropping his head to press his lips, hot and heavy, against the delicate skin of Dream’s exposed neck. Dream closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the door. His lips parted and he let out a pleased sigh as Sapnap sucked and licked at his skin.

“What’re you - _ah_ \- doing?”

Sapnap pulled back and blew cool air over the wet kiss marks and smirked when Dream shuddered. “You said it yourself,” another kiss to the sensitive spot under his jaw, “best to say your goodbyes tonight. So that’s what I’m doing. Saying goodbye.”

Dream’s head was beginning to fog over and the thigh between his legs was pressing against him in _just_ the right spot but he placed both hands on Sapnap’s shoulders and pushed him back a step. “Saying your goodbyes?”

Deft fingers began to undo the leather straps holding his netherite armour to his body and Sapnap wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You know. In case…” he trailed off and pulled the chest plate off of Dream’s body. It was set on the floor beside them.

Dream cupped Sapnap’s jaw and forced him to make eye contact. His green eyes were blown with lust and want and need. Sadness welled up behind the dominating emotions and Dream felt his heart break. He would do whatever it took to make sure Sapnap survived the events of the next day.

He loved him with his entire being, every inch of his mind and every cell of his body belonged to Sapnap and Sapnap alone. Sometimes words weren’t enough to show that love. As many times as he whispered gentle “I love you”s into his ear, he worried that Sapnap didn’t believe him, didn’t understand the extent of his love.

So he reached down and helped Sapnap untie the straps of his netherite pants and shoved them to the floor beside the chest plate. He’d worry about them in the morning. Right now, all that mattered was Sapnap.

His fingers curled around the black leather of Sapnap’s belt and he tugged, pulling their bodies together and sighing when Sapnap pushed his thigh in between Dream’s legs again. Their lips met and the kiss was rough and demanding. Dream bit Sapnap’s bottom lip and he breathed in the gasp Sapnap let out. He deepened the kiss.

Sapnap’s hands were gripping his hips like they were his lifeline and Dream hoped that, when he woke up the next morning, his waist would be riddled with purple bruises in the same shapes and sizes of tanned fingertips. Their hips were pulled flush together and twin sighs and gasps were elicited from the lips of both men.

Sapnap pulled away and pressed a few more kisses to the underside of Dream’s jaw. He reached up and tugged the collar of his shirt to the side and exposed the skin of his collarbone. His lips attached to it and Dream’s hands, still holding loosely onto Sapnap’s belt, travelled up and slipped under his shirt.

His skin was so _warm_ against his fingers and he pressed his palms flat against the sides of his ribcage. Sapnap, spurred on by the skin-on-skin contact, bit down gently on Dream’s collarbone. The sensation drew a moan, low and breathy, from Dream’s lips and he could feel Sapnap smile against his skin.

Dream went red at the way Sapnap’s eyes roamed over him when they made eye contact. He looked _hungry_ and arousal pooled in the pit of his stomach. 

“Can I?” Sapnap asked, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he pushed his thigh further up in between Dream’s legs.

The stimulation was white-hot and searing, burning through his clothes and replacing the blood in his veins with pure fire. He removed his hands from under Sapnap’s shirt and tangled his long fingers in mid-length black hair. “ _Please_ ,” he whispered, bringing their lips together.

Sapnap broke the kiss and nodded. His movements were slow and methodical as he dipped his hands under his shirt and ghosted his fingertips up Dream’s sides and then back down again. He brought his hands down and toyed with the waistband of his pants. Sapnap lowered himself to the ground as his hands travelled further and further down Dream’s body.

Hands gripped the front of his thighs and Dream could feel the heat through the fabric of his pants. He glanced down and saw Sapnap on his knees looking up at him with wide pupils and flushed cheeks. Dream tightened his grip on Sapnap’s hair and gave the strands a gentle tug. Sapnap’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a breathy sigh. 

The buckle on his belt made a _clang_ as it hit the wooden floor and eager fingers worked at the waistband of his pants. Soon, his skin was exposed to the air and his head was hitting the back of the door and Dream uttered a small, “ _fuck_ , Sapnap,” under his breath.

Sapnap’s hands were warm and his mouth was warmer and Dream felt like pure bliss. His hands tugging on Sapnap’s hair seemed to spur him on and he felt fingers dig into the plush flesh of his thighs. His breaths hitched with every movement Sapnap made and he felt the knot in his stomach tightening with intense pressure. All too soon, Sapnap was leaning back and pushing himself to a standing position and their lips crashed together with bruising force and Dream felt both unsatisfied and completely content to die right then and there.

Hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt and Sapnap walked backwards through the house, bringing Dream along with him. They stumbled in the poorly lit hallways and bumped, repeatedly, into walls and corners and doors. Sapnap kicked a door open and they practically fell into the room. The back of Dream’s knees hit the edge of the bed and Sapnap had a hand on his chest and was pushing him back against it.

He fell, less gracefully than he would have wanted, onto the bed and bounced slightly with the momentum. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted and he watched with a hungry expression as Sapnap pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. Dream shimmied himself out of his pants, a feat that wasn’t too hard to do considering they were already halfway down his thighs, and kicked them into a corner. His shirt joined the steadily growing pile of clothes and he reached forward to undo Sapnap’s belt for him.

The buckle was cold despite the summer heat and it sent shivers up his spine and down his limbs. He fumbled with the buttons on his pants and Sapnap laughed at him.

“Eager?”

“Shut up.”

His bottom lip was between his teeth and his hands pulled and tugged at the buttons desperately, craving the feel of warm hands all over his body and needing the sweet release of what they both knew came next. Finally, _finally_ , he popped all the buttons and tugged Sapnap’s pants down. They were the cherry on top of the mound of various articles of clothing on the wooden floor of the house that once belonged to their close friend.

Hands were back on his chest and Dream’s back hit the mattress. Sapnap climbed on top of him and settled in between his legs. He wrapped his hand around one of Dream’s thighs and lifted it up to hook around his waist. Fingers ghosted over the sensitive skin of Dream’s pale inner thighs and his head fell back against the pillows. 

Dream let sighs and gasps escape his lips as Sapnap’s hands roamed freely over his body as if he owned it.

Sapnap leaned forward and Dream wrapped his other leg around his tanned waist. He locked his ankles together and held Sapnap close.

The weight on his body was warm, searing hot and burning in a way that could only be _Sapnap_ , and Dream lived for it. Lips were pressed against his and he breathed heavily.

“Let me do this,” Sapnap’s voice was low, rough, and Dream felt his cheeks flush at the sound of it. “Let me worship you, spoil you.”

He was so _warm_ and all conscious thought left Dream’s mind right then and there. “I’m all yours,” he whispered against plush lips.

Sapnap dominated the situation.

He felt helpless and he loved it. He relinquished any sense of control he had and let Sapnap guide and lead him, take charge of the situation. Sapnap was an all-consuming fire and Dream wanted to _burn_.

*

The air had cooled off and the sweat on their skin had dried.

Dream’s body ached in all the good ways and his throat felt raw. He couldn’t see them, but he could tell his neck and collarbone were littered with hickeys, purple and black marks tainting his pale skin and branding him as taken, marking him as Sapnap’s. Sapnap’s throat and shoulders were bound to look the same.

He breathed in, deep, and his nostrils flooded with the smell of cinnamon and sweat and Sapnap and he closed his eyes for a brief moment.

If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that there was no war, there were no enemies, there were no explosives or crossbows or swords or anything of the sorts. If he tried hard enough, he was back on that beach telling Sapnap he loved him for the first time, tasting saltwater on his lips and licking whipped cream from between his fingers. If he tried hard enough, they were safe and happy and protected.

He opened his eyes.

The ceiling loomed above them, dark and miserable, and Dream turned his head to gaze out the window. Stars dotted the night sky and, somehow, made him feel more alone. It was just him and Sapnap against the world. It’d always been that way, had been since they met.

Crickets chirped and the wind rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees and he thought he heard the distant _mew_ of a stray cat wandering through the tall grasses.

He exhaled.

Dream tightened his arm around Sapnap’s waist and held him close.

He was laying on his side, Sapnap curled into his chest. His arm was over Sapnap’s waist and their fingers were intertwined on the bed. Dream let go and brought his hand up to pet through Sapnap’s black hair. The steady breaths of the man next to him brought him back to reality. 

He was with Sapnap. Sapnap was with him. There was a war tomorrow. There was nothing they could do about it. Dream might die. Sapnap might die. There was nothing they could do about it.

His eyes roamed around the room and landed on Sapnap’s bag resting against the wall. Carefully, he disentangled their limbs and pushed himself into a standing position. Sapnap whined in his sleep at the loss of contact and Dream’s heart twisted.

The wooden floor felt foreign under his feet and his knees wobbled briefly before he caught his balance and stood tall. He crossed the room in a few steps and knelt down. Rough wood rubbed against his knees as he dug through Sapnap’s bag with a purpose. He knew what he was looking for and he was _sure_ he’d seen Sapnap slip it into his bag when they’d packed.

His fingers closed around the bulky object and he let out a small, triumphant laugh. He tiptoed back over to the bed and slipped under the blanket.

Dream lay flat on his back and Sapnap immediately curled into him. An arm was thrown over his waist and held tight and a head was rested against his chest, right over his heart. Sapnap’s head moved, up and down, up and down, up and down in time with his breathing. He brought his free hand up and rested it in between Sapnap’s bare shoulder blades.

His skin was warm.

He held his other hand out in front of them and let the lens of the worn camera point at their tangled bodies. The camera was old and neither of them were completely sure it even worked, but Sapnap had gotten so excited when he’d found a villager willing to sell it, that he paid the hefty price and slipped the object into his pocket with a grin brighter than the sun itself.

Dream thought it was cute, how excited he had gotten over the prospect of a camera that might work. They were rare in the city and there was no way to develop the photos, but Sapnap took them nonetheless. He’d told Dream he was scared of forgetting things, scared of forgetting the places he’d been and the people he’d met and that taking photos helped ease that anxiety, whether he’d be able to actually look at them later or not.

Dream smiled in the dark at no one in particular. He raised his hand and turned his head. His nose was buried deep in black hair and he breathed in the comforting and familiar smell of Sapnap. He kissed the top of his head and closed his eyes.

The shuttering sound of the camera capturing the photo echoed in the empty room and Sapnap stirred against Dream’s chest. He rubbed circles into his back with his hand and set the camera on the windowsill.

Moonlight shone through the glass and bathed them both in its pale glow. Sapnap looked godly in the white light and Dream came to a conclusion.

He would do everything he could to keep Sapnap safe tomorrow, not just for himself and his own selfish desires, but for everyone. For Punz, who thought of Sapnap as a brother. For Karl, who had become a close friend quickly. For Purpled, who often sparred with Sapnap in their free time. For Schlatt, who needed this win badly.

For Sapnap, who was still full of youthful energy and crazy ideas. Sapnap, who was softer than the moon and warmer than the sun. Sapnap, who smiled when he laughed and cried when he was angry. Sapnap, who pushed George to his limits and complained when he fought back. Sapnap, who started growing out his hair because Dream had told him, once, that he liked it long. Sapnap, who picked flowers and baked bread and built houses and dug graves and danced in the rain and burned brighter than any flame and made Dream feel like the most important man on the planet.

He would keep Sapnap alive because he had so much life left to live, so many adventures to be had, so many kisses to press against pale skin.

Dream vowed, then and there, to protect Sapnap with everything he had for the rest of his life. To hold him close every night and make him feel loved and special. To play with his hair and kiss his fingertips.

The man asleep on his chest meant everything to him and Dream pressed his lips against the top of his head.

“One day,” he whispered into black hair, not caring if Sapnap was awake or could hear him, “I’m going to marry you. I promise.”

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut but make it *tasteful*
> 
> i was originally going to go full out with the nsfw on this chapter but decided against it a couple days ago, mainly because i didn't want to have to up the rating more than i already did. however, if enough people want it and i feel inspired, i might write out the full explicit scene and post it as a oneshot on my account. let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in reading it.
> 
> and with this, dear reader, we are one step closer to the very end. thank you, truly, for sticking along with me on this journey.
> 
> buckle your seatbelts. there's only heartbreak and hurt ahead.


	8. tock.

The skin on his hand is scarred, flesh pink and red and rough and calloused. His fingernails haven’t completely grown back yet and the old nails fall off periodically. His palm is purple and black and bruised with blood resting under the surface of the new layers of skin. He wishes he had a way to slice open his hand and watch the blood pour out and pool at his feet on the floor.

Dream thinks the red would contrast nicely with the obsidian.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he burned his hand, scorched his skin, singed the hairs.

Sam dropped more food into his cell a few hours - _days? weeks? months? years?_ \- ago, along with a roll of fresh gauze. Dream had thrown the gauze in the lava.

He lives in the pain and the pain lives in him. He doesn’t know who he is without it. He’s allowed it to become a part of him, nestle in his brain and slip under his skin. 

His hand hurts.

Every movement, every breath, jostle, nudge, bump, sends fiery hot pain shooting through his veins. Dream cries out every time but he can’t stop.

He finds himself tapping his injured hand against the corner of the table. He finds himself picking at the new skin with his fingers, peeling it off before it can truly grow over and heal. He finds himself poking at his burnt nail beds with the tip of the quill.

He finds himself standing closer and closer to the lava with every passing day. 

The smell of his burning flesh lingers in his nose and he can’t escape it. He’s shoved his head under the water of the basin and breathed out, harshly, only to pull his head back up and smell the sickly sour scent with every inhale.

He’s begun to submerge his head and breathe in the water.

It burns, stings, hurts, and he finds himself loving it. His sinuses reject the water and he resurfaces and coughs and spits and sucks in air.

Dream’s stopped writing.

Sam hasn’t given him another bottle of ink and he’s saving the last remaining drops in his current one for something special.

He doesn’t know what, yet, but he knows it will be worth it.

Dream thinks of the promise he’d made to Sapnap that one hot, summer night.

Is that a special enough memory?

He isn’t sure.

He isn’t sure of much, anymore.

All he knows is that the lava won’t stop flowing and his desk is permanently stained and there are countless filled journals in the chest and his hand hurts and the skin is _black_.

Dream blinks down at his hand.

No.

No, no, no, no.

_nonononononononono_

_No_.

That isn’t possible, it can’t be possible.

His skin is stained with black ink and his chest constricts and his breaths are laboured and his arm is numb and his head is spinning and he’s rushing to the water-filled basin.

Dream’s knees hit the ground first and he’s positive that the bruises on the joints will be there forever, tattooed onto his skin for the rest of his life.

He plunges his hands into the water and ignores the icy chill that runs up his arms. His fingers dig into the bony flesh of his damaged hand and he scrubs, scratches, pulls, tears at the skin, desperate to get the inky blackness off. It’s corrupting him and he needs to _get it off_.

His eyes burn and he sees ink splotches every time he blinks.

The water’s red.

He’s bleeding.

He doesn’t care.

His nails dig into the skin and he drags his fingers across his palm, driven by the overwhelming urge to have his skin come clean.

He blinks down at the tinted water.

His flesh is pale, red and pink, bleeding. Any traces of ink are gone.

Was it even there in the first place?

Surely, it was. Surely, his skin was stained mere moments ago. Surely, it was ever stained in the first place.

Right?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. _He doesn’t know._

His eyes flit over to the desk. The wood is stained with black ink. He sighs.

Dream blinks.

The tabletop is clean and clear.

His breath catches in his throat.

Wet hands scrub at his eyes and pink droplets drip down his face, leaving coloured trails over his sallow cheeks. He opens his eyes.

The table is black.

He doesn’t know.

Dream can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t anymore. He’s spent too long dwelling on memories, dwelling on the life he used to live, dwelling on _Sapnap_ , and he can no longer tell the difference between reality and his imagination.

It’s fucking with his mind and nothing seems real, but at the same time, everything seems so incredibly, undeniably, _painfully_ real that his head is throbbing and he feels like his skull might split from the pressure behind his eyes.

The one thing he’s certain of is the glow of the golden clock reflecting the lowlight of the glowstone lamp. It’s his only constant, the ticking soothing and maddening and reassuring and infuriating. 

That has to be real. It has to be.

His fingers curl around the stone edge of the basin and blood, red and hot and thick, drips from the fingertips of his right hand.

Dream pushes himself into a standing position and holds his right arm straight out in front of him, palm facing downwards.

He’s right; the obsidian gleams with his wet blood and the red captures the light of the glowstone in front of him and the lava behind him perfectly.

It’s beautiful, he thinks, and he is mesmerized by the drip, drip, dripping of his blood onto the floor. The droplets splash in time with the ticking of the clock and everything makes sense.

Dream smiles and his lips are dry and they crack. He tastes metal, and blood from his lips drips down his chin and trails down his jaw, neck, throat, shirt, and, finally, lands on the floor. A few drops land on the top of his bare feet.

He’s laughing. The sound is manic and deranged and choked and barely-human. It fills his ears and bounces off the walls of the cell.

He’s stopped laughing but the sound carries, reverberates, echoes, and he can’t escape it.

Dream pulls his arm back to his body and presses his wet, bloody palm flat on his chest, right over his heart.

Sapnap always used to put his hand there. He would laugh when he felt Dream’s heartbeat speed up and ask him why he was so nervous.

Dream gags.

He drags his hand down his body, blood smearing down the thin, dirty fabric of his shirt and leaving a red, murderous trail in its wake.

His hand rests against his abdomen.

Sapnap always used to sit on his stomach, his weight comforting and familiar. He would smile down at Dream and trace his fingers over his freckles.

Dream spits to the side, saliva red with blood.

He pulls his hand off his body and holds it in front of his eyes.

It’s shaking, trembling and twitching, and the bleeding has stopped but the skin is raw and disgusting and painful and on fire.

He smiles.

He feels tears well up in his eyes and he does nothing to stem their flow. He lets them fall from his eyelashes and roll down his face.

They are salty against his lips and he catches them with his tongue. They mix with the blood and the taste in his mouth is disgusting and all too real and he’s spitting onto the floor. 

Dream’s hand is resting on his stomach, again, and he balls the fabric of his shirt up into his fist and he holds, tightly, onto his only link to reality, his only tether to the ground beneath him and the world around him. The obsidian walls liquify and bend and bleed and his head spins and he thinks he’s going to throw up.

He clutches his shirt and he’s scared.

His feet carry him and he stumbles blindly, eyes blurry with tears and mouth full of blood from his split lip and his head throbs and his hand hurts and he turns and his back hits the wall on the far side of his cell.

The walls have stopped moving and his vision is clouded with orange from the lava staring directly at him. His knees give out and he slides down the wall and sits. Dream’s legs splay out in front of him and he can’t let go of his shirt.

His breath comes out in uneven gasps and his chest feels like it’s constricting and he’s tugging on his shirt and he’s so fucking _scared_.

He doesn’t want to die in here but he knows he will, knows that Sam is going to let him descend into insanity and madness and rot away in the cell with no visitors and practically no food and no one to talk to. Fear sinks its teeth into his heart and his mind and addles his thoughts and he hears ticking but he doesn’t know where it’s coming from.

Obsidian presses against his back and chills his flesh, ices his bones, cools his thoughts. Goosebumps rise over his skin and Dream looks down at the hand still clutching his shirt. It’s burning, fiery and hot, and the rest of him is cold.

The muscles spasm and his hand twitches. He lets go of the shirt.

Dream brings his hand up to his face, inches away from his nose, and he examines the charred skin in detail for the first time.

Veins web under the skin and they are blue and purple against the heel of his palm. Dried blood coats his fingertips and he scrapes it off with what little nails he has left. There are still a few blisters that have yet to pop despite the hours he’s spent clawing at his bones. The skin is raw.

He turns his hand around, palm facing the lava, and looks at his knuckles. They’re bony and thin, damaged skin wrapping tightly around the joints and stretching with every painful bend of his fingers. His nails are disgusting - cracked and split and most of them are gone; the nail beds are brown and red and bloody and there are small scratches on them from the quill. The hairs on the back of his hand were all burnt off and the skin is fresh and clean and scraped and tender, raw.

Dream’s left hand twitches and aches with the desire to grasp and tug and damage and he wants to feel the satisfaction of drawing blood.

But he drops his hand, hard, onto his thigh and winces at the sharp pain that shoots up his cold arm.

He’s so cold.

The back of his head hits the wall and he lets his eyes slip shut. Dream doesn’t allow his brain to fall into the blissful unconsciousness it so desperately craves.

Instead, he lets his mind wander.

He thinks of beaches and springtime and cake and summer sun and hot nights and hotter bodies and golden leaves and tall towers and piano music and cold snow and scraped ice and warm tea and golden lockets and Sapnap.

It all comes back to Sapnap.

It always has.

He’s the link, the connecting feature, the one who holds Dream together at the seams. He’s everything and anything and nothing all at once and Dream doesn’t know who he’d be without him.

Would he still be trapped in an obsidian cell if he hadn’t known Sapnap? Was Sapnap the one who caused him to be locked up?

It all comes back to Sapnap.

It always has.

It always will.

He haunts Dream, forever and eternally, and his heart aches.

He misses him.

He’s so scared.

He’s so cold.

Dream uses what little energy he has left and pushes himself up. He’s on his knees, crawling over to the chest of books.

His hand dips inside and he pulls out a new journal.

Its pages are crisp and white and clean and he unscrews the nearly-empty bottle of black ink.

His hand shakes and he holds the quill too tightly and he dips the tip into the bottle.

Ink drops down from the tip of the quill onto the page as Dream’s hand hovers mid-air. He’s trying to find the right words. It’s his last memory, after all, and it needs to be perfect.

Everything needs to be perfect.

He’s so cold.

The tip of the quill touches the top of the page and his hand hurts but he scrawls. The clock ticks.

_It was spring_ , he writes, and he thinks back to that day, that terrible day back in March and he wonders, was this where it all went wrong? Was this the point of no return?

Was this the beginning of the end, the start of the long, windy trail that he would make his way down?

It all comes back to Sapnap.

His hand hurts as he writes and his body is cold.

He doesn’t know how long he’s spent writing. All he knows is that the ink bottle is empty and every page of the journal is full and his hand hurts and the clock is ticking.

He’s so cold.

Dream sets the quill down on the stained tabletop and closes the journal. It rests in the center of the desk like an offering. He thinks, maybe, it is.

Dream turns his head to the side.

Lava flows down from the ceiling at the end of the cell. It’s liquid fire, red and orange and yellow and warm.

He remembers what it felt like to stick his hand into the substance. He recalls the pain, the burning, the pressure, the smell.

He remembers how warm it was.

He’s so cold.

Sapnap was warm.

It all comes back to Sapnap.

The clock ticks and he remembers warm arms wrapped around him, holding tightly and promising to never let go.

It all comes back to Sapnap.

The clock ticks and he remembers warm lips pressed to his, kissing gently and promising to never leave.

It all comes back to Sapnap.

He remembers the warm weight of Sapnap’s body against his that night before the war, and all the nights after it. He remembers warm hands on his skin and in his hair. He remembers warm blankets and warmer sweaters and warm tea and warm scarves. He remembers warm arms around his waist when they slow danced and he remembers the warm sun on the back of his neck when they swam in the ocean.

It all comes back to Sapnap.

He remembers that promise he’d made to Punz all those nights ago. I’ll keep him safe, he’d said. I’ll look after him, he’d said. I love him, he’d said.

He’s failed Punz. He’s failed himself. He’s failed Sapnap.

It all comes back to Sapnap.

And now he’s standing at the edge of his cell, back to the lava, and he can feel the heat roll off of it in waves.

The room stretches out in front of him and it looks desolate, sad and bleak, lonely. It looks cold.

The clock is ticking incessantly and Dream takes a step back.

He lets his body fall back into the warm embrace of the lava and if he tries hard enough, he can pretend it’s Sapnap’s arms wrapping around him after a long day.

He’s not cold anymore.

The lava eats away at his skin and burns him. His eyes are closed, squeezed shut, and his nose wrinkles at the smell that’s overcome him. He can feel flames licking at his body and… he doesn’t hurt.

It’s not painful.

Just warm.

Dream’s in Sapnap’s arms and he opens his mouth to say hello, to tell him he’s missed him, to remind him how much he loves him.

Fire pools in his mouth and down his throat and he gags.

It hurts.

His throat burns and the insides of his cheeks blister and he scrambles.

His hands fly out in front of him but there’s nothing to grab.

There’s just lava, all around him, in him. It surrounds him and he tries, desperately, to swim back, to bring himself back into his cell and he’s scared.

He’s terrified.

He doesn’t want to die in here.

It all comes back to Sapnap.

Dream hears the clock in the distance.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry.


	9. spring.

It was spring.

It was spring and the sky was grey and the rain was harsh and thunder boomed and Dream was cold.

Dream’s feet carried him up the dark, wet wooden path of New L’Manberg. He pushed open the door to his and Sapnap’s shared house - they had liked it so much during their stay over the holidays, they decided to live there permanently. The room was dark and empty, the fireplace sat cold in the corner and the lantern on the table looked as though it hadn’t been lit since last night. He stepped further into the room and nudged the door to the bedroom open, only to find it in the same state it was in when he’d left that morning, except Sapnap wasn’t lying on the bed.

His world came crashing down around him. Where was Sapnap?

The slam of the door was drowned out by a particularly loud clap of thunder, the boom shaking his bones and setting him more on edge. Where the fuck was Sapnap?

Rain pounded down on the path, the droplets fat and round, and Dream almost slipped a few times. He paid no mind to his stumbling and tripping, too focused on running around and banging his fist against any and every door he could find. Lightning cracked and thunder boomed and rain pounded against his skin and Phil looked less than impressed when he opened the door.

“What?”

“Have you seen Sapnap?” he sounded as frantic as he felt.

Phil eyed him, confused and suspicious, before giving a curt, “no,” and slamming his door shut.

“Fuck you, too, then,” Dream uttered under his breath and jogged to the next house.

A bleary-eyed Karl opened the door, wrapped in a fuzzy and warm-looking blanket. Heat rolled out of the house in waves and Dream was tempted to push past the man and collapse on the rug in front of the roaring fireplace. Instead, he asked the same question.

“Sapnap?” Karl said, voice giving away that he knew more than he was letting on. “Haven’t, uh, seen him, no. Sorry, Dream.” He went to close his door but Dream’s palm stopped it from shutting.

“Where is he, Karl?” his voice was low, commanding. He needed to know.

Karl looked scared. He looked scared of him and something in Dream faltered for a brief moment. It must have shown on his face, softened his features and dulled the fire in his eyes because Karl opened the door wide again and sighed. “Won’t you come inside, Dream? You’re soaked, it’s freezing outside. Come warm up by the fire. I have some leftover dinner for you, too, if you’d like.”

Dream shook his head, droplets of water flying off his hair. “Where is he?”

“Dream?” Quackity said from behind him, standing in the open doorway of the neighbouring house. “What’s wrong?”

He spun on his heel and glared at the man through the rain. “You know, too, don’t you? Where’d he go?”

A hand, warm and reassuring, landed on his shoulder and Karl stepped out into the rain beside him. “Dream, calm down. He’s okay.”

“If he’s okay, then why won’t you tell me where the _fuck_ he is?” His words made both men flinch. Dream shrugged Karl’s hand off and stalked towards Quackity.

“Dream-”

“ _Where is he?_ ” His hand was fisted in Quackity’s shirt and he was staring down at him with murder in his eyes. 

Karl’s hand was back on his shoulder and the other wrapped around his outstretched arm, guiding it down. “Dream.”

“Please,” he whispered, letting go of Quackity and stumbling back a few steps, colliding with Karl and almost sending them tumbling to the ground.

Quackity was stood still, fear and surprise etched onto his features. His hand was resting over the twisted and crumbled fabric on his chest.

“Last I saw him,” Karl spoke from behind him, voice measured and even, “he was heading in the direction of Punz’s place. I don’t know if that’s where he is, though.”

Dream glanced at Quackity, giving him the most apologetic look he could muster, before muttering a small, “thank you,” to Karl and setting off back down the path. He heard Karl talk to Quackity in a soothing voice and the twin slam of two doors.

Rain fell from the sky harder, faster, and Dream was drenched. His hair stuck to his forehead and neck and water dripped into his eyes and down his face. He was wearing his armour, the netherite hanging heavily off his body but doing nothing to stop his clothes from getting soaked. Fabric chafed against him and rubbed harshly over his skin. 

He rushed down the few flights of stairs and walked through the main area of New L’Manberg. Booths were set up on the raised platform, canopies sagging from the weight of the rain. The balloons in the sky thrashed against the harsh winds. His feet carried him down the final flight of stairs, two steps at a time, and he landed on the path leading out of the nation.

Obsidian walls loomed over him, menacing against the dark grey of the sky. Its purple shined with the rainwater and gleamed when lightning stuck behind it. Dream smiled to himself at his handiwork and pushed through the small gap to the outside world.

The walls had gone up in no time. Tommy had pushed the limit, burned down George’s house and showed no signs of remorse. Dream had to do something.

So he’d spent hours gathering as much obsidian as he could find and worked well into the night building the walls around Tommy’s precious nation. His body still ached from the hard work, but Sapnap had opened his arms to him when he crawled into bed that night and eased his pain.

That was a week ago, and now Sapnap was nowhere to be found.

Dream broke into a jog when he reached the tunnel Karl had carved into the side of the mountain. The blue lantern that usually hung from the ceiling had burned out, and Dream was shrouded in darkness when he set foot inside. His heavy footsteps echoed off the glass water-filled walls and rivalled the resounding _boom_ of thunder. He moved with a purpose.

Rain hit his face as soon as he exited the tunnel and he squinted his eyes against the wind. Shadows were distorted from the periodic lightning strikes and the buildings around him appeared menacing. Eret’s museum stood, tall and proud, on his left and bathed the entirety of the path in greys and blacks.

His sheathed sword hit his leg with every uneven step but he paid it no mind; Punz’s house stood on the hill in the distance and he moved forward with one goal in mind. Dream ran through the rain and stepped onto the main path. Its wooden planks were waterlogged and old, sagging in some places and soaked throughout. The vines that grew on either side of the path were bright green and thriving under the rainy months of early spring. Bamboo shoots stood tall and cast shadows over Dream’s face as he climbed the rocky steps towards Punz’s front door.

He didn’t knock, just pushed the door open with his fist and crossed the threshold as if he owned the place.

Punz was huddled over his workbench in the corner, sharpening his axe with a whetstone. His voice was clear as day and he didn’t turn around when he said, “he’s not here, Dream.”

Dream left the door open and walked further into the house. His hand brushed over his face and he slicked his hair back, clearing his vision. He stalked through the house, opening the doors on his right and peering into the rooms for Sapnap. His foot hit the bottom step of the staircase leading to the top floor and all of a sudden Punz’s axe was at his throat.

The netherite was sharp, deadly and menacing, cold against his wet skin. Punz’s eyes were hard and his jaw was set. “I said he’s not here.”

Dream placed his palm flat against the wooden handle of the axe and pushed it away from his throat. He continued up the stairs. “I don’t believe you.”

“I didn’t ask if you believed me.” A hand was on his arm, grip tight.

He twisted his shoulder and shoved Punz’s hand off of him. Dream’s boots made wet footprints up the wooden steps and the wind closed the front door with a startlingly loud _bang_. He’d made it a few more steps up the stairs before a hand was grabbing the back of his shirt that peeked up behind his chest plate and was tugging him backwards.

Fabric rode up his chest and was tight against his throat and Dream coughed out a breath. He stumbled back off the stairs and landed on unsteady feet. Punz stepped in front of him, axe held tight in his grip. Dream’s hand instinctually went to the handle of his sword and he began to pull it out of its scabbard. A few wet strands of hair had fallen out of place and danced in front of his vision.

Despite his cold body, fire raced through his veins and he squared his stance. The sword was heavy in his hands and he held it out in front of him, the tip pointed directly at the center of Punz’s chest.

The man in front of him scoffed and took a step forward, unafraid. He walked until the tip of the sword was pressed lightly against his body and was catching on the fabric. His eyebrow was raised and his voice was harsh, “put it down, Dream.”

Dream readjusted his grip on the sword and kept it in place. “Where is he, Punz?”

“Put it down.”

His mind was split, torn between two sides. Part of him _knew_ he was overreacting; he wasn’t really going to hurt Punz… right? Dream shook his head and cleared his thoughts. The other part of him, the part that was _right_ , screamed at him to find Sapnap, to protect and care for him. He was possessive and obsessive and no one was going to get in his way.

Dream went to take a small step forward but Punz’s arm shot out and the flat side of his axe knocked Dream’s sword to the side. It clattered to the floor beside him. The top edge of the axe was pressed against his chest in the same fashion he had done to Punz with his sword. His heart raced and his hands were balled into fists at his side and water dripped from the ends of his hair onto his face.

He blinked and took a step back.

Punz lowered the axe to his side and took a mirrored step back. His expression was unreadable and the fire behind his eyes shone bright in the darkened room.

“Punz, please,” he pleaded. He was desperate, deprived, and he needed Sapnap to survive. “Where is he?” His voice cracked and shook and his legs trembled. His knees wobbled but he stood tall and proud. He wouldn’t falter around Punz.

The man in front of him looked to the ground. He swallowed and stood still for a few breaths. Thunder boomed and lightning clapped outside the house and wind battered the walls. Rain pounded on the roof and the house creaked. Punz raised his head.

“You’ve done enough, don’t you think, Dream?” his voice was quiet, words powerful. They were louder than the storm and quieter than a mouse. They were a punch to the stomach and a hand wrapped around a throat, they were fire and ice and they burned Dream’s ears and sent shivers down his spine.

“What?”

“Don’t you think that he has every right to be mad at you?”

“He’s not mad at me.”

Punz laughed, short and curt, and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”

“He’s-” Dream started.

“Then where is he?”

“Fuck you,” he spat.

The look that crossed the man’s face - indignant, arrogant, smug - made Dream take a step forward, fists still resting by his sides. 

“What are you going to do, Dream?” he taunted, arms spread out beside him, axe hanging loosely in his grasp. “Run and hide? Cry? Build more walls around another nation? Threaten to exile another kid?”

Oh, _fuck_ him. If Punz wanted to play dirty, Dream was more than willing to fight back.

“You’re just upset he doesn’t need you anymore. No more ‘big brother Punz’. Bet that hurts your fragile ego, huh?” He shifted the weight on his feet and favoured his left side. He was ready to make a quick move.

Punz laughed. “Really? _My_ ego’s fragile? Just keep telling yourself that, Dream.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means? You’re a big boy, you can figure it out.”

His condescending voice paired with his mocking words and relaxed stance set Dream on edge and he pushed off his left foot. His right hand reached down and he scooped the sword off the floor and in one swift movement he was back upright, sword pointed directly at Punz’s heart. He didn’t care if he ran him through. He wanted to run him through.

“Who do you think you are?”

Punz brought the axe back up in front of him in defence. “Yeah? And who are you, Dream?”

He faltered. Punz didn’t know what he was talking about. He was egging him on, itching for a fight. He was aggressive and bloodthirsty and he’d always been like that, throughout their entire friendship. The man in front of him wasn’t his friend, he was never his friend. Punz was power-hungry, looking for a chance to step on those below him. But Dream wasn’t below him. 

Dream took a step forward and swung his sword in an arc, just missing Punz as he stepped back. The action was repeated once, twice, three times until Punz had one of his feet on the first step of the stairs behind him. Dream’s sword was pressed against his throat. 

Punz stood, motionless, the same smug look on his face. Dream took a few more steps forward until he was face to face with Punz, noses inches apart. The sword was still pressed into his skin, beads of blood forming under the blade. “Don’t talk to me like that. Ever.”

With a roll of his eyes and a huff of breath, Punz had bent his arm and shoved his forearm into Dream’s chest, pushing him away.

Dream fell to the floor with a grunt and moved to sit up, but Punz’s boot was on his chest and pushing him down. He glared daggers at the man above him and tried to reach for his sword. Punz laughed.

“You’re not as powerful as you think, Dream, so be careful. You’re getting in over your head, and I’d watch your back, if I were you.”

“Punz-” he went to get up, hands wrapped around the man’s boot, trying to push him off.

“He’s not here. I’d suggest you stop looking for him.”

The storm raged outside. His mind raced.

The foot was taken off his chest and Punz went back to his workbench, reaching for the whetstone. The house filled with the scratching and scraping sounds of the stone being dragged across already sharp netherite.

Dream stood up and rubbed harshly at his chest plate, removing the dirty footprint from the rain-soaked armour. He thought about stabbing Punz from behind and watching as the blood bubbled out of his throat. Something stopped him.

“Go home, Dream. You’re soaked. He’ll come back to you when he’s ready.”

His footsteps echoed through the otherwise empty house and he shoved his sword back into its scabbard. His fingers closed around the handle of the door and he looked over his shoulder.

Punz was staring at him, the look on his face indecipherable and sad. They maintained eye contact for a few seconds until Dream shook his head and opened the door.

Wind howled around him and mussed his already-soaked hair. It stung his cheeks and burned his eyes and he squinted. Rain fell, hard, from the sky and bounced off his skin. Goosebumps rose over his flesh and he shivered involuntarily. He pressed forward.

His head was low, eyes trained on the path in front of him, and he passed by various buildings. Purpled’s floating house to his right, Church Prime to his left. His feet carried him forward with no destination in mind.

The lake spread out in front of him. A fine mist rose around the water and evaporated into the air. It was light and caused by the rain. It gave the area a calm feel, a break from the storm that was raging around him, despite the rough waves. The mist rolled with the wind and disappeared into the stormy night sky.

The docks leading to the community house bobbed up and down frantically with the rough waves of the lake. They thrashed and dipped under the water before resurfacing again, soaked through. He was about to step foot on the dock, risk tumbling into the icy water and scraping his skin against the porous coral, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

Bamboo grew, tall and sturdy, around the edge of the lake on his left. A wooden fence weaved its way through the bamboo shoots and sagged in the muddy ground. A soft light, yellow and barely-there, peeked through the foliage. It was hard to see, shining dimly against the grey sky and pouring rain, but it was unmistakably _there_.

Dream knew where it was coming from.

He stepped off the path and onto the water-logged grass. It was green and yellow, muddy and squishy, and it squelched beneath his heavy boots. His feet brought him forward with a purpose and he smiled at the idea of having Sapnap in his arms again. He couldn’t wait.

Dream picked his way around the bamboo and sparse buildings and approached the crumbling stone bridge in front of him. It was old, worn with use and cracked from various pranks that went too far. It hovered over the lake and waves crashed over its sides, soaking it. He stepped on it and felt himself calm down. His heart slowed and his breathing steadied, his hands stopped shaking and his mind stopped racing.

A building, made of oak wood and glass, floated on the water at the end of the bridge. It was decayed and falling apart, remnants of explosives and gunpowder clung to the broken glass and splintered wood like honey on toast. Light shone through the cracked windows and Dream could just make out the shadowy shape of a figure illuminated by the dull lighting.

Sapnap.

He smiled and pushed open the door. Its hinges groaned and squeaked and he had to push past piles of rock and debris on the floor, but he was inside.

The roof was caving and, in some spots, rain poured onto the floor. The entire room to his right was broken and shattered and a few tarps had been set up in a feeble attempt to block out the rough winds. It didn’t work.

Dream shivered as he turned to the left and made his way around the destruction on the floor. A particularly rough gust of wind sent a wave crashing onto the side of the house and bone-chilling water sprayed through the cracks in the glass and landed on his already soaked body.

Sapnap was standing directly in front of him, back turned towards him as he stared out the only window that was completely intact. His hands were in front of him and it looked like he was holding something. 

“There you are, baby,” Dream called, continuing forward. He didn’t see the way Sapnap stiffened and set his shoulders at the sound of his voice. “Was looking for you everywhere, asked everyone. You’ll never believe what Punz told me, that asshole.”

“Dream.” Sapnap’s voice was meek, feeble. It could barely be heard over the outside noise and Dream kept moving forward. He was only a few steps away now.

“Where did you go? Why are you here?”

“Dream,” he repeated, voice more firm and stern. He kept his back to Dream, which caused him to furrow his brows and reach out to touch Sapnap’s shoulder.

His fiancé ignored the touch and kept his eyes trained on the object in his hands. Dream looked over his shoulder to see what he was holding.

It was the locket he’d given him back in December, golden and clean and promising. It was clicked open in Sapnap’s palm, and the photo of them stared back at him. Dream went to rest his head on Sapnap’s shoulder and made to place his hand overtop Sapnap’s, but the man shrugged off his touch and moved to the side.

“Sapnap?”

He heard the telltale _click_ of the locket being snapped shut and he watched as Sapnap ran his thumb over the engraved face. He closed it in his fist and looked out at the storm beyond the window.

The clouds were a darker grey, now, bordering on black. Lightning struck from within them and illuminated the sky for the briefest of moments. Rain ran down the glass in streaks and bounced off the surface of the lake. Waves rolled and crashed and wind blew leaves through the air. The mist he’d seen earlier was more visible now that he was closer to the water. 

Sapnap spoke. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Mean what, Sapnap?”

He was quiet for a moment. “What you said. To Tommy. To everyone. About not caring about anything other than those stupid discs.”

_No_.

_Yes_.

He didn’t know.

“Sapnap, you know I didn’t mean it.”

_But did he? Maybe he did mean it._

“Really? Really, Dream? You know I can tell when you’re lying.” His voice got soft, quiet, small, “don’t lie to me.”

“I missed you.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“What do you want me to say, Sapnap?”

“The fucking truth!” his voice shook. “I don’t care what it is anymore, I just want you to be honest with me.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” he spat. “You can’t even spare me a _shred_ of decency and tell the truth? Fuck you. Fuck you, Dream.”

Sapnap wouldn’t look at him. Dream’s mind raced and heart pounded against his ribs and his hands shook and his hair was sopping wet and _Sapnap wouldn’t look at him_.

He reached out a hand and grabbed onto Sapnap’s shoulder. He turned him around so they were face to face and he went to cup his cheek. Sapnap ducked under the touch and took another step back. What the fuck?

“Sapnap, baby, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? _What’s wrong_?” His eyes were wide and he looked scared, frantic, desperate. Sapnap looked sad and tired and lonely and confused.

Dream’s thoughts were like fire and his blood was like ice. His limbs were frozen in place and all he could do was stare at the man in front of him, his fiancé, as he shoved the locket inside his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest. No, no, no, Punz was wrong, Sapnap wasn’t mad at him. He couldn’t be mad at him, not after everything he’d done for him. He put up walls for him, threatened to exile Tommy for him.

Everything Dream did was for Sapnap, so why couldn’t he see that?

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you did.”

He scoffed and he crossed his arms over his chest to quell the desire to draw his sword and make Sapnap see his side of things. “I did everything I had to.”

“What?”

“You wouldn’t understand. But just know,” he glanced out the window at the storm. It raged on, eternally, and Dream felt the anger bubbling up in his chest. Why didn’t Sapnap get it? Why didn’t he understand? His voice was smooth with artificial calm, “everything I do, I do for you. For us. So maybe you should take that into consideration and be thankful.”

“ _Thankful?_ ” It was shrill and it echoed around the space they were in. The word slipped through the broken windows and got carried away by the wind. “Thankful for what? The ten-foot-tall obsidian walls surrounding our house? Surrounding Karl and Quackity’s houses? Or the way you so quickly suggested you banish a sixteen-year-old kid and throw him into exile? Or, Dream, maybe I should be thankful for you exclaiming, loud and proud, that you care more about two discs, _two music discs_ , than anything else in the city - including your _fucking fiancé_. ‘Cause, I don’t know about you, but those don’t seem like things I should be happy about.”

Dream narrowed his eyes and brought his arms down, fingers closing around the hilt of his sword. Sapnap didn’t get it. He was being too aggressive for no reason, he just didn’t understand. Dream could talk him through it, explain everything, and then they’d be happy again. That’s all he’d ever wanted, for everyone to be happy. And he’d had that for a while, with Sapnap. They were happy, content, in love and on track to get married once the weather dried and warmed up. But then Tommy had to stick his hands where they didn’t belong and fuck everything up.

Sapnap’s eyes were trained on Dream’s hand, on Dream’s sword. Realization crossed his features and his lips parted, ever so slightly, and he raised his chin to stare at Dream. “What? Are you going to fight me? Back me into a corner and prove to me that you’re right? Dream, you can’t tell me what to feel or think, that’s not how this works.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do! I just want to explain myself, baby, so let me talk.”

He scoffed and had the audacity to roll his eyes. “No amount of explaining could change the fact that I’m scared to step foot in that house because of those walls, Dream. No amount of explaining could convince me that you still care about your friends, about me. You’re digging your own grave.”

“You’re overreacting, Sapnap.” Of course, he fucking cared about him. Of course! Why didn’t he understand? All Dream had wanted to do that night was find Sapnap, find out why he wasn’t home, in their bed, and bring him back. Dream wanted to wrap him in his arms and kiss him senseless. But Sapnap was making it ten times harder than it should have been.

“I’m overreacting? _I’m_ overreacting? I’m not the one who built a wall around a nation because a kid pulled a prank on my little fuck buddy’s house!” The words were spat with malice and they stung his ears like acid.

“Fuck budd- _George_?” he sputtered. Now he was confused. “What on _earth_ are you talking about?”

Sapnap laughed, outright laughed, and turned so he was facing the window. His expression was masked, hidden, and his features gave no indication of his emotion. “Don’t act so innocent. Don’t think I don’t know about you two.”

Did Sapnap think…? No, surely, not. “Who gave you that idea?”

He scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not stupid, Dream. I see the way you look at him, the way you act around him. He’s different around you, too. I’d really thought George knew better, but, really, he’s not the one to blame here, is he, Dream?” Sapnap turned to face him as he said those last words and the look on his face broke Dream’s heart, shattered it into pieces and stepped on them, crunched them under the heel of its boot and turned them into an unfixable powder.

“Pandas.”

“What happened to you, Dream? To us?”

“Sapnap, nothing happened. You’re my everything.”

“Yeah? Then fucking act like it.”

“Oh, I’m _so_ sorry that you get insecure when the attention isn’t on you the whole time.”

“Dream-”

“I talk to George for - what, five minutes? - and all of a sudden I’m _having an affair_? The world doesn’t revolve around you, Sapnap.”

“Will you _listen_ to me?” Sapnap had taken a few steps towards him. They were standing close, inches apart, and Dream could barely make out the flecks of brown in Sapnap’s green eyes in the dying light of the long-forgotten lantern.

“Oh, come on, now, Sapnap. Stop acting like you’re above everyone and everything, that you’re better than all of us. As if you’re so special. As if you’re perfect. Grow up.”

Tears pricked Sapnap’s eyes, the green getting glossy and glassy and wet, and he sniffled. His hand wiped, harshly, over his face and his cheeks reddened. He reached forward and pressed both his hands against Dream’s chest and shoved him backwards.

Dream stumbled and caught himself. Sapnap frowned at him and his bottom lip trembled. The storm raged on outside.

“I hate you,” he uttered, words weak yet so, so powerful, and Dream felt them right in his core. They floated through the air from Sapnap’s mouth and danced around, twirling and waltzing and nestling themselves securely in Dream’s brain. They sent shockwaves down his body and through his limbs and he felt his hands go numb. His legs shook and his chest hurt from where Punz had kicked him earlier. His skin hurt from the stinging of the rain and the wind. His back hurt from where he’d fallen to the floor. His heart and his mind hurt, damaged by the words that were sent his way, the words that were laced with so much resentment and malice and harm he didn’t know if they were true or not.

That wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to hate him. He _couldn’t_ hate him, no, no, no. He hadn’t done anything, said anything, that would warrant that. Right?

Dream didn’t know.

“I’m not having an affair, especially not with George.”

Sapnap wiped at his face, again, and sniffled once more. “Yeah? Then why’d you act so aggressive when Tommy burned down his house? You never do that for me. I mean,” he gestured to the ruins they were standing in, “look at my house. Where’s my obsidian walls, where’s George’s exile threat? For someone who isn’t having an affair, you sure seem to care about him a lot more than you do me.”

He took a tentative step forward. “I- Pandas, George blew up your house and I didn’t do anything about it because we were still secret, back then, and I couldn’t risk anyone suspecting that you mean the world to me. You’re my everything, Sapnap, and I can’t have someone take you away from me.”

Sapnap eyed him and choked out a pathetic laugh. “That’s a shitty excuse.”

Both his hands were raised in surrender. “I care about you, more than anything else. More than discs, more than obsidian and walls, definitely more than George.”

“I don’t know if I believe you anymore.”

Dream took another step forward. He could fix this, he _had_ to fix this. He couldn’t lose Sapnap, not now, not ever, and he could fix this. 

“Sapnap, believe me, baby. You’re my everything, my world. You’re perfect, special. Everything I could ever want. I do these things _for_ you, for us. They might not make sense right off the bat, but that’s why you need me to explain things to you.”

He didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or Sapnap more.

His fiancé sniffed and wiped his face. His eyes were bleary and tired, worn and pensive. He sighed, long and deep, and took a step towards Dream.

Dream closed the space between them in an instant, placing his hands on Sapnap’s waist and pulling him close. Sapnap collapsed in his arms, dead, tired weight, and let Dream rub circles on his back and on his sides.

“I’ve got you, baby, it’s okay. I love you.”

He couldn’t hear Sapnap say it back. He brushed it off as the words being muffled by his chest plate. 

Sapnap’s arms around him were weak and loose, barely holding on and the touch was almost non-existent. Dream held him until his tears seemed to cease, or at least slow down.

He trailed his hands over Sapnap’s body, going up his arm and over his shoulder. Both his hands cupped Sapnap’s face and pulled him back, tilting his head up until they were making eye contact. 

His thumbs brushed back and forth, back and forth, back and forth over the soft skin of Sapnap’s cheekbones. He wiped away the wet streaks and brushed off the fresh tears that fell down his face. Sapnap closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

Dream shifted and leaned down, pressing his lips, firm and persistent, to Sapnap’s forehead, cheeks, and nose. He kissed each of Sapnap’s eyebrows and then his temples. He kissed his jaw, his chin. He kissed either side of his mouth and, finally, he pressed their lips together.

It wasn’t special. Sapnap’s lips were salty with tears and Dream’s were wet with rainwater. It wasn’t an apology, or a promise. It was empty, a blank show of affection between two men who didn’t know what was going to happen next.

He was hopeful, though, and Sapnap kissed him back. Dream smiled against his lips and pulled away to suck in a breath of fresh air. Their foreheads rested together and Dream brought one hand down to Sapnap’s waist.

Dream pulled their bodies close, hips to hips and chest to chest. He tilted Sapnap’s head and kissed a little harder, testing the waters.

Sapnap did nothing, just stood there and let Dream kiss him. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks and Dream had half the decency to feel bad. He broke the kiss.

He let go of Sapnap’s face and brought his other hand to the back of Sapnap’s thigh. He bent his knees and hoisted Sapnap up and guided his thigh to wrap around his hip. The other leg quickly followed and Dream held him, sturdy, against his own body.

His chin hooked on Sapnap’s shoulder and he looked at the messy and ruined ground. He stepped carefully and slowly, avoiding piles of rock and wood, glass. Dream had made his way over to the staircase that descended into the floor. It was one of the only things that was completely unharmed and unscathed - Dream had told George to leave the downstairs alone.

So, Dream carried Sapnap down the flight of rickety wooden steps and brought them over to the bed. He set Sapnap down on the edge of it and watched, fond smile on his face, as he kicked off his boots and crawled under the blanket and pulled it up around his shoulders.

Dream got to work undoing the leather straps of his armour. Deft fingers untied the knots with practiced ease, and it took him merely a matter of moments before he had discarded the chest plate, sword and scabbard, and netherite pants onto a pile on the floor. He pulled his wet shirt over his head and rummaged around in the drawer of Sapnap’s old dresser. A new, clean shirt - one of his old ones that he’d left there - was tugged over his head and hugged his body. He threw his wet pants into the same pile and debated putting on the pair of dry pants. Dream decided against it and brushed his semi-dry hair out of his eyes with his fingers.

His feet padded over the stone floor and he collapsed into the bed behind Sapnap. The blankets were pulled over his body and he wrapped an arm around Sapnap’s waist. His fiancé stayed still and let Dream pull him closer until his back was against his chest.

Dream buried his nose in Sapnap’s long hair and breathed in his scent. Cinnamon and warmth flooded his nostrils and he closed his eyes, tight. He was okay, they were okay, Sapnap was okay.

They’d talk it all over again in the morning, if Sapnap wanted. Dream knew he was right, which was all that mattered. He could convince Sapnap to see straight, see the truth, no problem. It would be an easy task and Dream looked forward to it, meaning he got to spend more time with the man in question.

Heat blanketed him as he held Sapnap in his arms. Everything was perfect, smooth and right. Sapnap loved him, Dream loved Sapnap. 

He was okay. They were okay. Sapnap was okay.

Dream curled his body around Sapnap’s more, bending his knees and burrowing his nose further into Sapnap’s hair.

He pointedly ignored the quiet sobs and cries that wracked Sapnap’s body.

He was okay. They were okay. Sapnap was okay.

Dream felt sleep tugging at the corners of his brain and he welcomed it with open arms, enveloping it like an old friend. He fell into unconsciousness in a warm bed with the one he loved wrapped, securely and tightly, in his arms.

The next morning, the sun was shining high in the sky and the grass was wet with dew. Flowers began to bloom in the green grass and created kaleidoscopes of colour on the ground. Birds chirped and bees buzzed and butterflies flew through the air. The sky was bright blue and clear.

Dream woke up alone.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

_Tick_.

_Tock_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one chapter left, how we feeling?
> 
> i know i don't have to say this, but it's been on my mind, so i'll say it anyways. the next chapter's the last one. there, most likely, will be no continuation or add-ons to hiraeth after all ten chapters are posted. this being said, the ending might not be what you expect, want, or love. that's the point.  
> it's hurt/no comfort for a reason; the ending is supposed to leave you confused and hurt, damaged and wanting more. it's supposed to be draining and painful. you all have theories about the last chapter and its ending, and you all, surely, have ways you want it to play out. but this is the ending i settled on when i first came up with this idea. it's been here from the beginning and everything prior to it has been leading up to it, subtly.  
> so, please, spare me the hate comments or criticism when the last chapter gets published. hate it all you want, but don't be negative.  
> you can express your distaste with characters, dialogue, setting, anything of the sorts. you can not be satisfied with the ending, but, please, before you go to comment about it, know that that was the point.  
> it's supposed to be unsatisfying. life is unsatisfying, sometimes, and so is love. this is just one of those instances.
> 
> so, all this being said, i hope you're excited for the last chapter. feel free to tell me what you think or what you hope is going to happen! i love reading all your theories.
> 
> thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for keeping up with hiraeth and being so actively invested in this story. i have fallen in love with it and it means the world to me that so many of you have, too.
> 
> as always, i love you.
> 
> sea. <3

**Author's Note:**

> if ur reading this i love u and if u comment i love u slightly more <3
> 
> updates will be out whenever i finish them, typically within a week or two.
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seasandsalt) for banger tweets n updates n such :)


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